


Check Mate

by starseternalnighttriumphant



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 03:50:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 39,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20482388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starseternalnighttriumphant/pseuds/starseternalnighttriumphant
Summary: As the rising star of the CIA, Aelin Galathynius has had her fair share of great cases. When her boss pairs her up with her fiercest rival, FBI Special Agent Rowan Whitethorn, she finds what might be the biggest case of her career. The two go undercover as a married couple to infiltrate and expose crime lord Arobynn Hamel, playing the loving newlyweds as they determine how deep his corruption goes. Navigating the burning feelings she has for her infuriating partner is hard enough, but as Aelin unravels more about this case, she's finding an even darker side to the man who killed her parents. And she's starting to realize there are secrets threatening not only to ruin her life, but to take it as well.





	1. Chapter One

Detective Aelin Galathynius was one of the government's most renowned CIA agents. By some luck, she had joined the agency when she was fresh out of college, and now at 24 years old there wasn’t a government worker who didn’t know her face. The president of Terrasen even knew who she was. 

She had been solving cases left and right, and just when someone thought she wouldn’t be able to crack it, she brought in suspects who pleaded guilty to everything. No one knew how she did it. She was just that good.

So it came as a surprise when she was told another agent was being assigned to her case.

“What do you mean, I have a partner on this? I’ve already done the preliminary background research on the case. I’ve got leads. I don’t need help,” Aelin argued to her boss, Rolfe.

“It’s out of my hands, Galathynius. The FBI wants to be involved in this one. Orders came straight from the directors themselves,” he replied, holding his hands up in defeat. 

“I don’t need some rookie coming in and messing everything up,” she muttered, turning back to her computer screen.

Rolfe barked a laugh that had her spinning back to face him. 

“What?”

He shook his head. “There’s no rookie coming to join you, detective. The feds are sending over Rowan Whitethorn.”

Aelin’s heart dropped to her stomach.

Anyone but Rowan Whitethorn.

_ Anyone _ but him. 

“Are you fucking with me, Rolfe? That’s not funny.”

He sighed, handing her the file he had in his hands. “Sorry kid, but I wish I was. He comes in tomorrow.”

Rolfe saluted her and left. She leaned back in her chair, completely rattled.

Rowan Whitethorn was just as famous as she was. A hardened Marine veteran and five years her senior, he was known for being cold, calculated, and ruthless when it came to his job. He was the only one in the whole government that rivaled her for number of cases solved.

He had even managed to take down mafia members in New York, something she hadn’t yet been able to accomplish. He had taken over many of the CIA’s cases, including some of Aelin’s. Oh, he knew who she was. And he no doubt revelled in the fact that he took cases from her. She knew who he was. They had been all over each other at a Yulemas party two years ago, and as the party ended he had smugly told her he had taken control of her first huge case. A case that should have made her famous, but had been snatched from her while Whitethorn had been planting sinful kisses across her neck in the bathroom at the party.

And she hated him with all her heart.

She sighed, flipping open the file that would no doubt carry information about him. And there he was, government issued photo staring up at her.

Rowan Ash Whitethorn, 27 years old, DOB 4/13/1992, born in Doranelle, Wendlyn, blood type O+, 6’5, 230lbs, security level clearance: top secret, blah, blah, blah…

Aelin let out another sigh and then offered up a silent prayer to the gods that this case would be solved quickly and she’d never had to see Agent Whitethorn again.

  



	2. Chapter Two

Aelin woke up to the buzz of her government issued phone. Peeling one sleep-blurred eye open she gazed at the alarm clock. Who the hell was texting her at 7:00am on a saturday morning? Sighing and rubbing her eyes for a good minute, she sat up in bed and stretched before reaching for her phone. 

The text was from an unknown number, and even though she knew only other government workers could possibly text her, it set her on edge. She quickly opened it, scanned the contents, and then let out a loud “WHAT THE FUCK”, stumbling out of bed and heading to her front door. She was down the hallway before she realized she was in nothing but her panties and an oversized shirt, but she was already on a mission. 

She banged on the door at the end of the hall, incessantly and with rapid succession until the door swung open, revealing a beautiful and familiar face, a dopey grin on his face as his eyes trailed over her.

“What can I do for y—” 

Aelin interrupted him as she shoved into his apartment, seeing a pretty brunette standing there in nothing but an oversized shirt that no doubt belonged to the male behind her. 

“Get out,” she ordered the girl, who looked at her wide-eyed and then started stuttering to the man beside Aelin.

“Sorry, love,” he said breezily, grabbing the girl’s clothes where they lay scattered across the floor. “Duty calls. You can keep the shirt.”

He patted her behind as he shooed her out, her face nothing short of absolute shock. She probably hadn’t expected her morning to turn out like this, poor thing. Aelin crossed her arms over her chest as the man closed the door and turned to her, that stupid grin still on his face.

“It’s always a pleasure to see your beautiful face Aelin—”

“Cut the bullshit Fenrys. Did you give Rowan Whitethorn my number?” she demanded, deadpan.

Fenrys groaned, pulling his unruly blonde curls into a bun on top of his head. How the FBI allowed his long hair, she had no idea. He probably used the incessant charm of his. 

“Aelin, you gotta let shit go. He asked for it and I gave it to him. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal, especially since you’ll need to contact him for your case anyways,” he explained, pulling off his pajama pants, gloriously naked before her. 

He eyed her mischievously as he turned and walked by her to his dresser, brushing past her. She rolled her eyes at his antics. 

“One, you act like I’ve never seen your dick before. And two, you had no right to give Whitethorn my number. How do you even know we’re going to be working together?” she asked, turning to face him as he pulled on some underwear and then sweats. 

He grinned fiendishly, pulling a shirt over his toned body. “Do you want to feel it again? I’d be more than happy to tangle in the sheets with you again, detective.”

She stared him down, not amused. He sighed and patted her shoulder as he moved to his small kitchen. 

“One, lighten up. Two, you know he’s my best friend so obviously I had to listen to him bitch about how he has to work with you.”

She scoffed. “Well that makes two of us. Did you also give him the idea to take me out to dinner to talk about the case too?”

Fenrys choked on a laugh, spinning back to face her. “What?”

She held up her phone, reading the text Rowan had sent her. “This is Rowan Whitethorn. Meet me at the italian restaurant on 5th and K street at 7:00. Be on time.”

“Wow,” Fenrys drawled, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. “I gotta hand it to him, he really knows how to make a lady swoon with the texts he sends.”

She groaned and headed for the door to leave. “This is all your fault, Fen.”

He laughed. “Have fun on your date, gorgeous! Can’t wait to hear all about it.”

She flipped him off on her way out.

Later that day, she was frowning at her reflection in the mirror. She kept smoothing her hands over her dress nervously. Not because she didn’t think she looked good. She looked amazing. The little black dress hugged every curve of her body and fell off her shoulders. It hit mid-thigh and had a slit up one side that was dangerously close to revealing a lot more than her thigh. Her black pumps emphasized her slim calves and lanky legs. Her golden blonde hair fell in loose waves down her back, tickling her bared shoulders. She had gone easy on the makeup, leaving the attention to go to her lips, which were painted a deep, dark red that stood out against her white teeth when she smiled.

No, she looked stunning.

That wasn’t the hard part. She was worried about what to say to Rowan. She hadn’t talked to him since that Yulemas party. She wasn’t sure if she was going to yell at him or play it like she’d never met him before in her life. She didn’t know which one would annoy him more, something she was looking forward to doing. She wanted to look good as she slowly tore him to shreds with her infuriating attitude. It was only fair. 

She looked at the clock. 6:30. She really should get going. She grabbed her purse and headed out of her apartment complex to catch a cab. Twenty minutes later she was walking into the posh, upper-class restaurant Rowan had picked. 

Of course he would’ve picked this place, she thought. Pretentious bastard. 

She gave the hostess Rowan’s name and was lead to a secluded booth near the back of the restaurant where people who didn’t want to be overheard dined. As she drew closer, she could make out the back of Rowan’s silver-haired head. He turned his attention to her as she came up to the booth. 

“Agent Whitethorn,” she greeted silkily, meeting his eyes as he stood to greet her. 

“Agent Galathynius,” he said back, voice bored. 

She kissed his cheek softly to get him on unevening footing before sliding into the booth. He sat back down, watching her with his beautiful bedroom eyes. Though his face was expressionless, she could see a spark in his eyes as he took her in. She casually tossed her hair over her shoulder, revealing the expanse of skin the dress showed, the cleavage generously displayed. 

“You look… nice,” Rowan commented, and Aelin almost laughed at his attempt at civility. 

“And you look absolutely ravenous, detective, but I’m quite sure you didn’t ask me to meet you here to talk about how beautiful we both look,” Aelin smirked, picking up the menu. 

She wasn’t lying. He looked like a greek god reincarnated. He was dressed in a back suit, white undershirt with the first few buttons undone to show off a chest she had planted drunk kisses on. A watch glinted at his wrist, and his short hair complimented the angles of his face. He looked like sex on legs and Aelin hated him for it.

He scoffed but refrained from retorting as a waitress came to take their order. As soon as she left, Rowan pulled out a manilla folder, sliding across the table to her. She picked it up and opened it, reading the contents. Her heart dropped at what was inside.

Arobynn Hamel. 36 years old, DOB 11/2/1983, 6’2”, 220lbs, born in Orynth, Terrasen, wanted for money laundering, drug trafficking, illegal arms dealing, running prostitution rings, murder, bribery, etc., last known location: Rifthold, Adarlan… 

She shut the folder and shoved it into her purse. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to collect her thoughts before she addressed Rowan. 

Arobynn Hamel… gods, of course he would come back to haunt her. Come back to bite her in the ass. He had been the director of the CIA and good friends with her father years ago, and then had disappeared after her parents had been murdered. He hauled ass out of town as soon as the agency found out what Arobynn had been up to the past ten years. He was responsible for the death of her parents, she knew it deep in her heart. The other stuff, she had no doubt he was doing too. But to assign her to this case…

“Aelin,” Rowan called to her, interrupting her thoughts. 

She sighed and looked to him. “I’m going to skin Rolfe alive.”

A chuckle slipped past his lips, surprising her. “Judging by the look on your face, he didn’t tell you that the case’s end goal was to bring down Hamel.”

Clenching her jaw, she saw the waitress coming with their food and waited until she had placed it in front of them and left before answering him. 

“I thought the case was taking down a prostitution ring in Rifthold because girls from Terrasen were going missing. I had done the prelim research, found some leads…” she sighed again, digging into her food. “Of course this would be tied to Arobynn. After spending a couple of years of my free time hunting him down, he’s plopped onto my lap like a gift.”

“You know we can’t just dive headfirst into this—”

“Yes, Agent Whitethorn, I am fully aware of what proper procedure is,” Aelin retorted, voice dripping sarcasm.

He glared at her. “I’m serious. This case hits close to home for you. I can’t have you messing this up for me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I liked you better when you weren’t talking.”

“And I liked you better when I had you moaning my name, but we can’t all win.”

She choked on her pasta. 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

He smirked, finishing his food. “You heard me. You were much more compliant when my hands were between your legs.”

Her face erupted with heat and she knew her cheeks must be bright pink. She stood abruptly and reached over to grip his jaw in her hand, squeezing tightly. Her brilliant blue eyes rimmed with gold stared blazingly into his pine green ones.

“Let me get one thing straight, Rowan Whitethorn. I’m not one of those FBI secretary girls that fall for your good looks. You cannot manipulate me. I will not sit here and let you mock me, intimidate me, or insult me. You forget who I am. I’m just as good, if not _ better _ than you,” she spat, leaning in so they were almost nose to nose. “I will not let you humiliate me ever again. I will solve this case, and then I’ll make sure I spend the rest of my life making sure you know just how much better I am than you.”

She leaned in more and planted a light, seductive kiss to the corner of his lips. Anyone watching them would’ve thought she was kissing her date goodnight. She pulled back quickly, releasing his jaw and starting to walk away.

“I’ll leave it to you to get the bill. Have a nice night, Agent Whitethorn,” she called to him, an extra swing in her hips as she left the restaurant, knowing he was staring after her the whole time.


	3. Chapter Three - Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just a flashback to give you guys the background on why Aelin and Rowan don't like each other.

_ 1 year ago _

Aelin was on her fifth drink when Rowan Whitethorn plopped down beside her where she had been sitting at an empty table, watching everyone mingle. He watched her and she watched him out of the corner of her eye. Gods, he was attractive. So muscular and tall and pronounced jaw lines and pine green eyes and… hell, she must’ve been drunker than she thought. She knew he was an ass, knew he lived to be the best in the FBI just like she lived to be the best in the CIA. 

“What do you want?” she asked him, sucking down her drink.

“You don’t look like you’re having a good time,” he commented, taking a sip of his beer.

She scoffed. “It’s an open bar and free food. I’m enjoying myself immensely.” 

She was a liar. It had been just over a year since Sam’s death, and celebrating Yulemas without him seemed like sacrilege. They had always baked cookies together and exchanged presents and kissed each other awake on the morning of Yulemas. Now the holiday seemed empty and frivolous.

Before Rowan could respond to her, she stood up, wobbling. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

She stumbled off, walking into the bathroom. She leaned over the sink, staring at herself in the mirror. Gods, she was a mess. Her eyes were bloodshot and glazed from all the alcohol she’d drunk. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and she knew she was going to have a wicked hangover in the morning. 

Sighing, she leaned down to splash some cool water on her face to sober herself up. She reached for a towel and as she wiped the water from her face, she looked back into the mirror and yelped, spinning around.

Rowan Whitethorn was in the gods-damned women’s bathroom with her. He was leaned against the wall, watching her with lidded bedroom eyes, running a finger over his lip. 

“What are you _ doing _ in here?” she asked, watching that finger as it traced his sinful mouth. 

“I can’t stay away from you,” he replied and then strode to her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her hard. 

She instantly kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck, shoving her hands into his hair. Her mouth opened for him, and his tongue slid in, battling with hers. His hands moved to her hips and hefted her onto the counter, knee parting her thighs so he could stand between them. Her dress rode up, revealing a very revealing pair of black lace panties. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was shocked this was happening. The few times she had met him, he had never expressed any interest in her. In fact, he made it a point to tell her about all the cases the FBI had taken away from the CIA, from her, and given to him. It always set her teeth on edge. 

Rowan’s mouth moved to her neck, trailing biting kisses down her throat as his hands gripped her thighs with bruising intensity. Her drunk mind hoped they left marks. She pulled at the dress shirt he wore, unbuttoning it and shoving it off his shoulders, her fingers greedily running over the smooth muscles under his skin. 

“Aelin,” Rowan muttered against her neck, hands coming up to pull the neck of her dress down, freeing her breasts.

He kissed down her chest and took one of her nipples into his mouth, causing her to gasp as she threw her head back, leaning it against the bathroom mirror. Her hands gripped his hair as his mouth assaulted her nipple and his free hand came up to play with the other. 

He looked up at her, eyes meeting hers and she thought she was going to orgasm from the heated look alone. He released her breast and moved his hands back to her thighs, pulling them further apart. His fingers hooked into the lace and ripped them off her, the fabric essentially disintegrating in his hands. She was so turned on she couldn’t be bothered to reprimand him for it. She could feel wetness starting to build up between her thighs.

His finger grazed her clit and she gasped at the heightened sensitivity, mouth moving to capture his, biting his lip. He moaned into her mouth, fingers slipping between her slick folds. Aelin gripped the back of his neck, digging her nails into his skin. He kissed her thoroughly and then swiftly entered his fingers into her, causing her to call out his name. He stroked her a few times before groaning.

“Fuck, Aelin,” he muttered against her lips, cursing again when her walls clenched around his fingers, a silent demand for him to keep going. 

He pumped in and out of her, increasing and decreasing his speed, driving her wild. She moaned against his lips, grabbing his free hand and bringing it up to her breast. He rolled her nipple between his fingers as he quickened the pace of his other hand, curling his fingers upward to hit the spot that had her shaking. She gasped out his name, and he knew she was close. 

He rubbed his thumb against her clit as he fingered her hard, giving her nipple a quick pinch. He took her lip into his mouth, giving it a soft bite before murmuring against them,

“Come for me baby.”

She let go, walls spasming around his fingers as he stroked her through her orgasm. His mouth covered hers as she moaned, not wanting to be heard. He pulled out his fingers as she continued to shake. He planted kisses all over her mouth and neck until she stopped.

Even drunk, that was one of the fastest times she’d ever orgasmed. And orgasmed so hard. She reached for the button of his pants, more than ready to return the favor when a knock sounded at the door, the knob jiggling. She hadn’t realized Rowan had locked the door but thank the gods that he had. 

She looked into his eyes. They stared at each other before he chuckled, pulling away to put his shirt back on. She got off the counter, legs still feeling like jelly. She pulled her dress down and stuffed her breasts back where they belong. She ran a hand through her hair and then turned to Rowan. He pressed a kiss into her mouth while he said:

“By the way, I took your case about the drug smuggling. And I’ll have it solved by tomorrow.”

Stunned, as if he had thrown a bucket of ice water on her, she pulled back. “What?”

He grinned at her, just as drunk as she was. “All’s fair in love and war, princess.”

He turned and left the bathroom, leaving her confused and pissed.

  



	4. Chapter Four

It was Monday morning, and Aelin was having a good day until she walked into the office and saw Rowan Whitethorn sitting at her gods-damned desk. 

“Seriously?” she said as she came up to him, dropping her bag on the desk forcefully. “What are you doing here?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m here to work on the case. Did you think we’d be working from two different offices, barely interacting to solve this case?”

She scowled because she had secretly hoped that would’ve been the situation. She was about to tell him to get the hell out of her chair when Rolfe came up behind her. 

“Hope everything is going well!” he commented brightly, shooting Aelin a warning look. 

“Swimmingly, captain. Agent Whitethorn and I are about to crack into this case,” Aelin said diplomatically. 

“Good, good. Let me know if you need anything.”

She shot him daggers that she knew he saw as he walked away. He’d be getting an earful later. She turned back to Rowan, opening her mouth to tell him to get out of her chair when he stood up, grabbing some files.

“Let’s go,” he told her, pulling on his suit jacket.

“Go where?”

“It’s time to follow up on your leads. We’re starting at Hamel’s residence in the suburbs,” he said, explaining it as if she was incapable of understanding.

“Fine,” she ground out. “But I’m driving.”

-

They sat in complete tense silence the whole thirty minute drive to the house. She almost wished he would have complained about her driving, rather than sit in a small area with such a stoic man. 

The neighborhood was one of the nicer ones on the outskirts of Orynth, one where she had lived when she was younger. The house they were surveilling was a mansion compared to most, but she knew what lurked behind the massive iron door and the bay windows. Knew that the basement had held torture instruments and weapons and dried blood and death. Knew the marble dining table that she had sat at many times when she had been a teenager. 

She shook her head at the memories that plagued her, sunglasses-covered eyes scanning the house with scrutiny. There was no movement to be seen, and Aelin knew no one had been in the house for months. 

“Why are we sitting here watching an empty house?” Aelin muttered.

Rowan said nothing, just cut her a look and then turned his gaze back to the house. She let out a long-suffering sigh and propped her head up on her hand, her elbow digging into the soft leather of the center console. She couldn’t believe she was wasting her day in a car with Rowan Whitethorn, watching an empty house, when she could’ve been back at the office finding better leads than this.

After five more minutes, Aelin opened her mouth to ask again why they were sitting there when her eyes caught movement by one of the windows. She sat straight up, eyes trained to the house. Moments later, the door opened and a man stepped out, locking the door behind him. Her blood ran cold as she took in the auburn hair, artfully disheveled, the five o’clock shadow peppering a strong jaw, his figure tall and lithe yet she knew there was power hidden behind his unseeming frame. Sunglasses were perched on his nose and he didn’t look their way as he got into a nondescript car and drove off. 

Arobynn Hamel. 

Her hand reached to start the car, to follow him, but a strong hand gripped her wrist to stop her movements. Her eyes shot to his, eyebrows raising. 

“What?” she demanded.

“We’ve been given orders not to engage the subject,” he warned. 

Her jaw clenched. She knew he was right, damn him. 

“So now what? We know he’s still using the house. How does that help anything?” she asked.

“Now we break in,” he said simply, stepping out of the car.

She scrambled to follow behind him, hand going to the gun at her hip. “Break in? There’s nothing in there, the CIA had it cleared out months ago.”

He snorted, bringing out a tool that would open the lock on the door. “Use your head, Galathynius. If there was nothing here, Hamel wouldn’t keep coming back.”

She wanted to bash his head in with the butt of her gun but she instead let him lead her into the house. Furniture was covered in white sheets, and nothing seemed out of place from when she had last been here after they found out about Arobynn’s true nature. They went up the stairs, quietly, in case there was someone in the house. Aelin stopped at the door that led to his office and shoved it open, stepping inside.

All the furniture had been uncovered. There were sheets and pens sitting on the desk, and the room smelled faintly of Arobynn’s musky almond scent. She scrunched her nose as she rounded the desk, sitting in the chair. She and Rowan shuffled through papers silently, looking for anything that could help.

“Nothing but bank statements and abstract contracts,” Aelin sighed, leaning back in the chair. 

She reached for a drawer, not surprised to find it locked. She picked the lock easily and opened it. Her breath caught at what was inside.

“Galathynius?” Rowan called to her, but she was too focused on what lay on top of some papers to acknowledge him. 

Her fingers trembled as they pulled out two pieces of jewelry. One was a gold necklace, an emerald green pendant hanging it from it. The other was a men’s gold watch. She knew when she would flip it over there would be an inscription on the back. _ To 20 years and many more. I love you, E. _

She gazed at the jewelry her parents had gotten each other for their 20th anniversary, eyes blurring with tears. Her parents had worn them every day, never taking them off; and when she had seen their bodies without the jewelry, she knew whoever had killed them had taken it. And here they were, in Arobynn’s desk. Uncompromising proof of the truth she had always known but never thought she’d be able to prove.

“Aelin.”

Blinking through her tears, she grabbed the jewelry and pocketed it, leaning back to go through the drawer. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She could feel Rowan’s eyes burn into her skin, but she didn’t want his pity. No. She wanted revenge. And she hoped she’d find enough proof to get it. 

“Here,” she said a moment later, pulling out a piece of paper. “Rent statement. He’s hiding out in Rifthold, Adarlan.”

Her eyes shifted to his, his face grim. 

“Do you know what this means?” he asked.

She nodded. “We’re going to have to go undercover.”

  



	5. Chapter Five

“Do you have everything?” 

Aelin looked up into the turquoise eyes that so eerily resembled her own. She smiled softly at her beloved cousin before nodding. 

“Yeah,” she sighed, zipping up her suitcase. 

“How long will you be gone?” Aedion asked, stretching out on her bed. 

She shrugged. “The mission is indefinite. I could be there for two weeks, I could be there two years. It all depends on how fast we complete the mission.”

Though the thought of having to spend two years with Rowan Whitethorn was enough to give her a migraine. 

“Well solve it quick and get back home. Lysandra was so upset when she heard you were leaving.”

She grinned, shaking her head at her friend’s antics. Lys had been dating Aedion for a couple years now and she rarely saw them apart. They were always together. 

She placed her hand on Aedion’s cheek and then leaned down to kiss the other. “Take care of her for me. And take care of yourself okay? I’ll contact you when I can.”

He ruffled her hair and followed her to the door of her apartment, which he would be living in while she was gone. Her phone chimed with a text, and she rolled her eyes at Rowan’s words.

_ Hurry up. _

She ignored it and took her luggage down to the main floor where Rowan was waiting in the apartment complex’s lobby. He didn’t say anything to her as he took her bags and walked out, her trailing after him to the government-issued black sedan. She hopped into the passenger’s seat and fiddled with the radio as Rowan got in and drove off towards the highways connecting all the different countries together. 

“So,” she drawled, opening up the file that contained everything they needed to know about their mission in Rifthold. “We have an apartment on the same street as Hamel’s reported residence. No neighbors on either side of us, which is fine by me. We don’t need them asking questions.”

He was nodding. She had gone over this with him already, but she wanted to make sure everything was in place so they wouldn’t be caught unaware. He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to her. 

“Picked these up from the office this morning.”

The plastic cards were their forged driver's’ licenses. She looked them over, snorting at Rowan’s. While undercover, his silver hair was going to be black. He might as well dye it purple for how odd it would look on him. She looked at hers. Dark, muddy red hair. She pouted, fingering her virgin golden-blonde hair. She prided herself on how beautiful her hair was. 

Then she noticed something similar between their licenses.

“We’re married?” she demanded, outraged as she whipped her head to look at him.

His jaw tightened but he kept his eyes on the road. “I’m not happy about it either, but we can’t be passed off as related.”

Her eyes roved over their aliases. Dianna and Clark Brackyn. Ages 25 and 30 years old respectively, citizens of Adarlan. She sighed and stuffed them in the folder, going through the rest of the file.

“What’s your job?” she asked.

“I work for Rifthold Technologies, mid-level staff, been there for over a year now.” 

She nodded. “Why did we move to Rifthold?”

“To be closer to work. You also got a job at Havilliard Publishing as assistant editor so we had to move anyways.”

“How long have we been married?”

He looked to her with an exasperated expression. She just shrugged. “Trying to make sure we have our covers down to a tee.”

“We’ve been married two years. Speaking of,” he trailed off, reaching into his pocket. He handed her what he pulled out.

Wedding rings. A platinum engagement ring with a gracious halo diamond on top; the gems surrounding the diamond were the sparkling green of emeralds. A platinum wedding band was fused to the engagement ring, inlaid with more emeralds. The men’s wedding band was a larger, manlier version of hers, platinum with emeralds wrapped around it.

She placed the ring on her finger and then wiggled her hand. A perfect fit. She almost scoffed. She handed the men’s ring back to Rowan who slipped it onto his left hand. She had to admit, it looked mighty fine resting there. 

She shook her head, glancing out the window. “I guess the agencies are expecting us to play our roles well, hm?”

“What do you mean?”

She smirked at she turned back to him. “We have to act like a married couple. You know… hanging out, cuddling, kissing…” she wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Lots of  _ sex _ .”

He cut her a look that could kill before turning his eyes back to the road. “I am not sleeping with you, Galathynius.”

“Forgive me for getting the wrong impression when your fingers were inside of me at the Yulemas party,” she grumbled. 

She was egging him on, and he didn’t even realize. She hid her smug smile as his jaw clenched. 

“You need to let that go. We were both drunk,” he ground out.

She shrugged. “Whatever you say, detective.”

The car ride was dead silent for the rest of the way.

-

Two hours later, they were pulling up to their apartment. They were still in the city but on the outskirts where it was less crowded. Aelin got out of the car, swinging the keys to the apartment around her finger.

It looked nice, and she assumed this was a nicer neighborhood than some of the others. Adarlan wasn’t as prosperous of a country as Terrasen was but they did pretty well. The townhouse had a dark blue facade with a gray roof and matching gray door. She climbed up the steps and unlocked the door, pushing into the home. 

Her eyebrows rose as she walked around. Their agencies really pulled out the punches to have them positioned in a good place. She hadn’t been expecting to be placed on the same street as Arobynn’s reported address, but she couldn’t say she minded.

The floor was light gray wood flooring, the walls painted the same navy-gray blue as the outside of the house. The living room was completely furnished, including a flat screen TV that hovered above a fireplace. A dining room was off to the side with a glass table and stainless steel chairs. And gods above, the kitchen. White marble countertops, all new appliances, an island bar. 

Maybe two years with Rowan would be worth it if she lived in an apartment like this. She faced him as he brought in their luggage, shutting the door behind him. She grabbed her suitcases and hauled them up the stairs. Three doors were situated in the spacey hall, all of them opened so she could peek through them. Through the first door was an office, set up with everything they would need for record keeping and report filing. Through the second door was an extra bedroom, and surveillance tech had already been set up inside it. The door at the end of the hall led to the master bedroom, and Aelin let out a low whistle.

The bed was california king sized, covered in cream sheets and a rich empire blue duvet. A TV was mounted on the wall opposite of it, a window overlooked the street. Two armoires sat side by side against the last wall. She set her bags on the ground and walked into the master bathroom. A soaking tub sat under a window that overlooked the city, a standup shower was in one corner, and in an alcove sat the toilet. Jack and Jill sinks were under a large mirror that stretched across the wall. 

She walked back into the bedroom to watch as Rowan came in, placing his bags down too. He eyed the room with less interest than she had and started to rummage through the bag that had been hefted over his shoulder. 

“We should probably do some recon of the neighborhood,” Aelin suggested, peeking through the blinds at the street. 

“We’re going to,” Rowan agreed and she turned back to him in slight surprise that he actually did. 

He held up two packages. She groaned as she realized they were boxes off hair dye.

“But first, we have to say goodbye to our old selves.”

  
  



	6. Chapter Six

Aelin was staring forlornly at herself in the mirror, her damp hair now a muddy red color, washing out her cream-colored skin and reducing the brightness of her turquoise eyes. She supposed it was for the best, because if her hair didn’t give her away, her eyes would have. She pouted once more in the mirror and then wrapped her towel tightly around her, heading into the bedroom. 

Rowan was going through stuff that was resting on the bed and he looked up to her and snorted.

“That’s an awful hair color on you,” he commented, fiddling with an earpiece.

She sidled up next to him, running a finger up his arm. “I thought you liked brunettes, Agent Whitethorn.”

He dropped the earpiece onto the bed and faced her, his eyes darkening.

“We’re not doing this.”

“Why not?” she purred, twisting her hand into his shirt. “We’re supposed to be married. Don’t hold back, detective.”

“Aelin,” he warned, but made no effort to move away from her.

She raised an eyebrow and dropped her towel, completely naked before him, her hand still on his chest. She watched his jaw clench as his eyes flicked over her quickly, as if trying not to focus on her naked body. His gorgeous green eyes met hers again, fire blazing in them.

“Too bad you’re not interested,” she replied breezily, turning away from him and strutting to the armoire to pull out an outfit to don.

She heard him mutter curses under his breath and then the slam of the bathroom door. 

She smiled victoriously to herself.

-

She was scribbling notes at the kitchen island when Rowan came in, telling her that he was ready. She looked up to him and grinned.

“ _ You _ might as well have dyed your hair blue,” she crowed. 

He scowled at her as she came up to him. His once silver hair was now midnight black, bringing out his green eyes. She had to admit, no matter what color hair he had, he was too attractive for his own good. They geared up, Aelin shoving her gun into the holster at her back. 

They stepped out onto the street, an average couple going for a walk around the neighborhood. They started off down the street, and Aelin startled when Rowan grabbed her hand and laced his fingers with hers.

“We have to act the part,” he simply explained when she looked at him in surprise. 

She grinned and pressed herself into him. “I knew you couldn’t stay away from me.”

He scoffed, his eyes shooting around the area as they walked, so fast no one but another agent would’ve known he was surveilling, those keen eyes looking for anything that could be suspicious. 

“Do you think he killed my parents?” she asked quietly as her eyes did the same thing.

She saw him look at her out of her peripheral vision. His mouth twisted to the side in contemplation.

“After seeing their jewelry, yes,” he replied. “Both agencies assume he did it, because them being killed and Hamel disappearing at almost the same time was too much of a coincidence. Also, your father had been hot on Hamel’s tail, trying to close a drug trafficking case. He didn’t know it was Hamel, but…” he trailed off, and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “We all know Hamel did it. We just need the proof.”

She nodded, looking down at her feet as they walked. “I want him to rot in jail for the rest of his life.”

She looked back at Rowan and saw a dark grin on his face, so at odds with his professional composure. “That’s the plan.”

They were reaching the end of the street where Arobynn’s apartment was. It was a similar fashion to theirs, dark green paneling and a sand colored roof. There was no car on the side of the road or in the driveway, but she didn’t expect that he would keep his car in a place where it could be easily recognized. They slowed their pace, now just a few houses down from their target.

“What should we do?” Aelin asked, eyeing the apartment.

“Go through the backyards and into his. I’ll go around the corner and come up the other way,” Rowan told her and she nodded, peeling away from him and hopping the fence to the backyard of the apartment they’d stopped in front of.

It was sunset and she expected most people, if they were home, would be indoors having dinner. She made sure to duck under windows and dart past sliding glass doors that led to the inside of the townhouses. She hopped the fence into Hamel’s backyard and pressed herself up against the siding, waiting until a dark head came around the corner. 

Together, she and Rowan peeked through windows but saw nothing out of place, no sign that someone was even living in the apartment. It was furnished but she saw that there were no personal touches, no belongings laying around. Though she expected that from Arobynn, especially if he had to leave at a moment’s notice. She was about to tell Rowan that they should leave when she saw movement through the bay window that looked into the living room. 

A tall, very familiar man was coming down the stairs. Swearing under her breath, she pulled Rowan to her and pushed them against the side of the apartment, pressing her chest against Rowan’s. 

“What?” he whispered.

“He’s in there,” she whispered back, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. 

They stayed there, listening to the sound of the front door opening and closing, the sound of footsteps walking away from them. After a few more minutes, she pulled away from him and they jumped the fence back onto the sidewalk. They quickly walked back to their apartment and locked themselves up inside.

“Gods, that was close,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair.

“At least we know he’s here,” Rowan commented.

She nodded and went into the kitchen to where she left her notes. She rifled through them as Rowan came in.

“Any ideas on where he could’ve gone?” he asked her, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.

She nodded again, holding up a piece of paper. “He owns a bar and club in the city.” She looked up at him and shot him a wicked smile. “Time to go have a good time.”

-

The minute Aelin stepped into the bar, she knew this was not going to be fun. It didn’t look bad from the outside, but on the inside it was dark, loud, and smelled of sweaty men and beer and blood. Her nose wrinkled as she walked further into the dirty place, Rowan at her back. 

They went up to the bar and sat, the bartender a big, burly man with a handlebar mustache. Aeling ordered two beers and he nodded, pulling two bottles out and cracking them open, placing them down in front of them before heading off. She took a swig of hers and caught Rowan looking at her with a frown.

“What?” she demanded. “One beer isn’t going to get me drunk. Plus, it would’ve been suspicious if we didn’t order anything.”

He didn’t comment, just let his eyes rove around the loud and dinky bar. 

“This doesn’t seem like the type of place Hamel would bother owning,” he told her.

“It’s more of a front than anything. The club connected to this is more his speed.” She threw down the rest of her beer and then got off the stool, heading towards massive doors in the back that she knew would lead into the club.

Rowan was a welcoming presence behind her as she pushed the doors open and strode down the dark hallway that led to another set of doors, faint, thumping music coming from the other side.

“You ready?” she asked him, her hand resting on the door.

He nodded and she shoved the door open, opening it into what seemed like a different reality. The music was heavy, bass rattling deep inside her, the voice hazy and seductive as they walked through the club. It was even darker in here, the only light coming from the multi-colored strobe lights placed randomly throughout the big space. Half-naked and completely naked women were everywhere: on the stage, dancing; in the laps of men; walking around with trays in their hands. Aelin’s jaw clenched in disgust. She knew that over half the women in here had to be here against their will, trafficked to work in Arobynn’s sex club. Knew that some of them had to be the missing girls from Terrasen.

She gripped Rowan’s hand and lead him near the stage, a plush, empty chair seeming to wait for them. She motioned for him to sit down and before he could protest, she shrugged off her leather jacket, and swung her legs over him, settling into his lap, her hands going to wrap around the back of his neck.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, surprise coloring his voice.

“If we just stand around, people will notice,” she murmured in his ear, running her fingers through his hair. “But if we blend in, act like everyone else, we’ll be fine.”

In response, his hands drifted up her tight jean-clad thighs and up her hips, fingers brushing her bare skin as they slipped under her top. Aelin pressed herself into him, her face resting in the crook of his neck, her hair covering their faces enough that no one would be able to tell who they were. 

“What am I supposed to do?” Rowan’s voice rumbled low in her ear.

She huffed against his neck, then placed a kiss there. “What every other man is doing with a girl on his lap.”

His hands froze on her and she thought for a moment he wasn’t going to go along with it before they continued roving over her. They slipped under her top and up her back, tracing patterns along her skin. She shivered at the touch, one hand tangling in his hair as she placed kisses over his neck and jaw. 

One of his hands slipped to her ass, giving it a quick squeeze and she chuckled, biting the skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. She felt his other hand tangle in her hair and she gasped slightly when he pulled her head back. And let out a breathy moan when his lips found her throat, gliding over her flesh. Her hands dug into his shoulders as he kissed up her neck, biting her gently as he did so.

His lips reached her jaw and she looked at him, close enough that their noses were almost brushing. He was staring at her intently, and ran a thumb over her bottom lip. In a sudden act of courage, she pulled his thumb into her mouth, flicking her tongue along the pad of it. His gaze darkened, his eyes becoming hooded and she released his thumb and leaned in, about to press her lips to his when she saw a familiar figure flit by, long dark hair swinging.

Her head shot up, watching the petite yet curvy figure scantily clad in lingerie walk to a table, placing drinks down on it and then turning, heading back towards where Aelin and Rowan sat. Aelin scrambled off of him, walking into the dark haired young woman’s field of vision.

“Elide?” Aelin asked, voice cracking.

Elide’s brown eyes widened in surprise as she took in Aelin, recognizing her despite the dyed hair. 

“Aelin? What- what are you doing here?” she stuttered, coming up close to her. 

Aelin grabbed the girl by the arm and gestured for Rowan to follow them as Aelin threw her arm around Elide’s waist and pulled her close, pretending to be interested in the call girl as they walked towards the doors leading back to the bar. Aelin pulled her into the hallway, Rowan closely behind.

“You’ve been missing for a month, Elide,” Aelin’s voice shook as she hugged the girl.

Elide hugged her back just as hard, and Aelin felt tears land on her shoulder. “I know. I know. I had no way… they keep us all under lock and key. They threaten to beat us or kill us if we try to contact anyone or try to tell someone at the club what happened to us.”

She rubbed the girl’s back as she cried and motioned for Rowan to give her his jacket, which he did, and she helped Elide into it. She pulled down her jeans, revealing a pair of leggings, and threw the jeans to Elide, telling her to put them on. Now fully clothed, it didn’t look obvious as Aelin wrapped her arm back around her friend and guided her out of the bar and into the night, into safety.

  
  



	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: sexy times ahead... nsfw

Aelin was sitting on the loveseat, the identical couch taken by a now sleeping Elide. Aelin was watching her, her knees pulled up to her chest, her chin resting on them. She heard and felt Rowan come sit next to her but didn’t take her eyes of her friend’s form.

“What did Fen say?” she asked quietly.

“He’ll come in the morning to get her. They’ll question her and put her in a safe house.”

Aelin shook her head. “No, I’ll call Aedion. He’ll take care of her.”

She heard him sigh. “Aelin…”

“Aedion can protect her better than some shitty FBI detail,” Aelin hissed, then sighed, resting her brow against her kneecaps. “It’s the least I can do for her.”

Rowan was quiet for a moment and then asked, “How do you know her?”

Aelin turned her head, looking back to the dark haired girl. 

“We were friends growing up. She’s a year younger than me, but wicked smart so she was in my grade during school. We weren’t close friends but we were childhood friends and I always felt protective of her, like she was my little sister. She was the reason I took the case. I saw that she had gone missing, along with some other girls.”

“Well, it’s a good thing she has a great detective on her case.”

Aelin startled, turning her head to him, eyebrows furrowed. “Did you just compliment me?”

A small smile played on his face, but he stood up and walked toward the stairs. 

“Don’t get used to it,” he replied before disappearing up the stairs.

She couldn’t fight the grin on her own face, burying her face in her knees. She sometimes just couldn’t deal with Rowan Whitethorn. She sighed contently and then went back to watching her friend’s sleeping form.

-

Aelin jumped up from the loveseat, mouth spewing swear words and heart pounding in her chest as knocking continued on the front door. Hair stuck to her face, her clothes rumpled from having fallen asleep in the living room with Elide.

She flicked the safety off her gun as she neared the door, Rowan approaching her on near silent feet. She peeked through the peephole in the door and muttered some swear words again, clicking her safety back on and opening the door.

“Agent Galathynius,” Fenrys grinned as he came into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

“You couldn’t have told us you were on your way, Fenrys?” Rowan drawled.

“I could have, but I wanted to see if I was interrupting some… quality marriage time. You know, see if you guys were fu—”

He hissed in pain as Aelin’s fist connected with his arm. He shot her an incredulous look, rubbing his forearm. 

Aelin smiled at him innocently. “Sorry. Muscle spasm.”

Rowan snorted and led them into the kitchen where Elide was sitting at the island bar, eating breakfast, wrapped in a blanket. Aelin positioned herself at her side while Rowan and Fenrys took up the opposite side of the island, standing rather imposingly. 

“Elide,” Aelin started, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Fenrys and Rowan are gonna ask you some questions before you leave. Just a few to help us out here in Rifthold. And then Fenrys is going to take you back to Terrasen, and Aedion will be waiting for you at FBI headquarters. Is that alright?”

Elide looked up into Aelin’s sincere face, to the two men, and then back to Aelin. Aelin nodded to her encouragingly, giving her a small smile. Elide then nodded and faced the men again.

“Alright, pretty lady,” Fenrys grinned, pulling out a notepad and a pen. “I want you to tell me what you can about what happened to you. Use as much detail as you feel comfortable using. If there’s something you don’t feel comfortable telling me, but feel you can tell Aelin, tell her. We’re only gathering what’s necessary for the investigation.”

Elide nodded again and launched into her story, a more detailed version than what she had tiredly given Aelin. How Arobynn had kidnapped her from her own apartment, the few days she was drugged up and tied up, not knowing where she was or what was going to happen. The terrifying month of working in Hamel’s sex club, using that cunning mind of hers to avoid being used for sex. 

Aelin gently rubbed her friend’s shoulder throughout the story, listening intently to anything that could tip her off about how to bring Arobynn down.

“Was there anyone he met with multiple times?” Fenrys asked her, his pen never stopping as he wrote everything down.

“A lot of people,” Elide sighed, as if her answer wasn’t good enough. “An older blonde woman, I never caught her name but she was in charge of us. A man named Tern. And a man named Wesley. I saw Wesley a lot.”

The name hit her like a smack to the face, turning over in her mind rapidly as she gripped the counter, fingers drumming on the cool surface. 

“Shit,” Aelin muttered, brow furrowed.

“What is it?” Rowan asked her.

“Wesley was one of my informants,” Aelin explained quietly, eyes shifting back and forth as she thought. “He was a lesser detective under my father, friends with Sam… he was placed here in Adarlan after the first batch of girls went missing.” She scoffed in slight disbelief. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about him. Ever since Sam…” she shook her head. “I’ll have to call Rolfe and find out Wesley’s new number, that man changes phones every week. But we can meet up with him, see what he knows.”

Her eyes met Rowan’s and he nodded to her and then looked back to Elide, asking her to describe the people she’d mentioned. Aelin headed out into the living room to call Rolfe, crossing her fingers and hoping she struck gold with this potential lead.

-

Aelin was unnervingly nervous as she sat with Rowan in a booth in the back of the bar they had just been in last night. Her foot tapped and her fingers drummed on the grimy table, unable to keep still.

“Stop that,” Rowan muttered, putting his hand over hers, pressing it against the cheap plastic.

“Sorry,” she sighed, leaning against the vinyl cushion of the booth. “I just… what if he doesn’t have anything for us? This case can’t rest on Elide’s testimony alone.”

“Then we’ll worry about it later,” he told her, lacing his fingers through hers.

She frowned up at him, to say what she didn’t know, when the bells jingled, announcing someone had walked in. Her head whipped towards the entrance, where an average looking man with brown hair stood. Their eyes connected and his sparked in recognition as he walked towards the both where she sat.

“Wesley,” she greeted as he slid in across from them.

“Dianna,” he nodded, and she smirked at his use of her alias. “Gods, it’s been what? Two years?”

“Two years yet you haven’t changed much,” she joked.

He rolled his eyes. “The only thing different about you, Galathynius, is your hair color.”

Rowan snorted from beside her and she elbowed him in the ribs before turning her attention back to her informant.

“Tell me everything you know about Arobynn Hamel, Wes.”

And he did. Rowan placed a recorder on the table to record Wesley’s testimony. Wesley talked about all the different things Arobynn did around the city, the places he frequented, the people he talked to. The older blonde woman that Elide has mentioned turned out to be Clarisse DuVency, local sex trafficking madam. Tern, a hitman hired for murders and assassinations in Adarlan. 

“He’s dangerous, Dianna,” Wesley warned. “I know you think you know, but I’m undercover working for him. He didn’t come to Adarlan just to throw Terrasen girls into his sex club. There’s something else going on, but I haven’t found out what.”

Aelin frowned, biting her lip. “What do you mean?”

Wesley looked to the recorder, to Rowan, and then pressed the stop button on it. 

“You trust him?” he asked, gesturing to Rowan.

Rowan looked ready to open his big mouth, but Aelin places a hand on his arm and nodded to Wes. “I do.”

Wesley nodded and leaned forward.

“The CIA already knows he’s doing all this stuff in Adarlan. The sex trafficking, the brothel owning, the drug shipments, the money laundering. They know but they haven’t arrested him. They have the proof. They found all the proof they need at his residence in Terrasen. So why haven’t they arrested him? Why are you working this case? Why am I still here undercover? Something isn’t right, there’s more going on than just the crimes Hamel committed.”

Aelin sat back, stunned. She had to admit, she hadn’t thought about it. Hadn’t once questioned why Hamel was still on the run, why he wasn’t behind bars. She’d just figured all the evidence had been circumstantial. But then again… she’d never been allowed to see the evidence the CIA had encountered. 

“So what are they trying to find out?” she asked. 

“That’s what I’m trying to do. I’m not super close to Arobynn, but he trusts me as much as he can trust a person.”

Aelin sighed and tugged her hand through her hair. “Alright. Well, thank you for meeting with us.”

Wesley nodded, drumming his fingers on the table. He looked at her sadly, and it set her on edge.

“What?” she demanded. 

He looked to Rowan. “Can I talk to her alone?”

Rowan rose a brow, looking to her. She nodded, and he sighed and left the booth, going to sit at the bar. She watched him for a second before turning her eyes back to Wesley. 

“What’s going on?”

“I wanted to see how you were doing, without you having to lie or save face for your partner. I’m sorry. About Sam. He was one of my good friends,” Wesley told her.

She clenched her jaw. “I know. We still haven’t found out who did it.”

Wesley blinked at her, eyes darkening and brows furrowing. “What do you mean? Sam’s case was closed months ago.”

It was Aelin’s turn to look at him like he was crazy. “What the fuck are you talking about Wesley?”

He huffed an incredulous laugh, sitting back in the booth. 

“They didn’t tell you anything, did they?” 

Aelin clenched her hands. “What. Are you. Talking about.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment before leaning back towards her, opening his eyes.

“When your parents were murdered, the CIA immediately conducted an investigation. Sam headed the case, because they wouldn’t allow you to do it. Biases and what not. Sam couldn’t tell you he was doing it because you weren’t allowed to deal with anything concerning them, and Hamel told him he couldn’t tell you.”

Aelin’s breath caught in her throat. “What…”

“Aelin,” he said. “Sam was so close to finding out who did it. He was  _ too  _ close. Hamel killed your parents, and Sam was about to find out.”

She felt as if he had just punched her in the chest. Her heart pounded painfully and she started shaking her head. 

“That’s not… they would’ve told me. They would’ve told me if it was true.”

But deep down, she knew it was. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, had somehow tried to deny it despite finding her parents’ jewelry in Arobynn’s house. 

“Aelin,” he called, trying to get her attention. Her eyes shot to his, and she could see the sadness in them, an emotion she didn’t want to see.

“Aelin,” he started quietly. “Sam was too close to finding out it was Hamel, and so Hamel killed him.”

She shot up out of the booth, her head moving back and forth, not wanting to believe what Wesley was saying but knew, just  _ knew _ that he was right. Out of her peripheral she could see Rowan coming back for her, brows furrowed. 

“Why— why didn’t they tell me? Why didn’t Rolfe tell me?” she breathed, almost choking on the words.

“It was a conflict of interest. They also didn’t have proof until I found proof months ago. Sam’s watch. And the gun that killed him.”

Her head spun, it spun and she gripped her hair as if trying to steady herself, to tether herself back to this world. She could feel the panic building inside her, could feel the sob rising up in her throat. 

The ring of the bells on the entrance drew her out of her impending breakdown, and she looked to the door just as Rowan reached her.

“Aelin—” 

She stopped hearing, stopped feeling, stopped seeing anything else besides the figure who had just walked in. 

Arobynn Hamel had just entered the bar, one of his sex club girls on his arm. He looked so at ease, with his smarmy smile and his cool confidence. She wanted to tear him apart.

Aelin tried to move past Rowan, tried to get around him to get to Hamel, but Rowan stopped her, gripping her arms hard.

“Aelin, no,” Rowan commanded.

“Let me go, Whitethorn, or I’m going to hurt you,” she snarled, trying to yank her arms away.

“You’re going to blow our cover,” he snarled back.

“Ask me if I give a shit anymore,” she shoved against his chest, darting around him.

She watched, watched as Arobynn’s gray eyes lifted to her, to take in the figure coming towards him. Their eyes almost met before a strong hand gripped her arm, spinning her back to him.

“Let me go—”

She was cut off as Rowan’s lips descended on hers. His hands cupped her face hard, fingers weaving into her hair as he pressed into her, kissing her fast and hard. She gasped against his lips, hands coming up to grip his jacket, surprise causing her to melt into his embrace. For a moment, her senses were overwhelmed by him, and there was only him, only Rowan as his lips caressed hers, as his hands pulled her closer.

It could’ve been seconds or minutes or hours when Rowan let her go, pulling back only to look into her eyes. She stared back, chest heaving, trying to collect her scattered thoughts.

Hamel. Arobynn was here. She pushed him away, turning to survey the bar. And saw that Arobynn was nowhere to be found. She almost screamed in frustration and spun back to Rowan, smacking her hands against his chest.

“Why.” Smack. “Did.” Punch. “You.” Shove. “ _ Do that _ .” Smack.

He grabbed her wrists, eyes burning in anger as he pulled her out of the bar and into their car, driving them home. She seethed quietly as he drove, and he was doing the same. As he pulled into the driveway to the apartment, she tried to get out before he’d even put it in park, but he was faster, up the stairs and into the apartment, leaving her stomping after him, the panic she’d felt at the bar beginning to crest inside her.

“What the fuck happened back there, Galathynius?” Rowan snarled as she slammed the apartment door shut behind them, leaning against it as she struggled to breathe.

“I don’t know,” she gasped out.

“You almost compromised the fucking mission!”

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except the fact that Sam, her Sam, her first love, had died slowly and horribly at the hands of Arobynn Hamel.

“AELIN.”

Her eyes shot up to meet his, not realizing he had been speaking to her. He looked so angry, so spitting mad, that it set her off.

“I panicked, okay? I lost it!” she screamed at him, her hand still pressed to her chest as if she could hold her breaking heart together.

“We’re undercover. You’re a fucking CIA agent! You don’t get to panic, you don’t  _ get _ to lose it!”

“ _ HE KILLED SAM _ .”

She had wailed at him, had sounded so broken, that he froze, taken aback. He watched as she slid down the door to plop down on the floor, one hand pressed to her chest, another at her throat as if she could stop the choking sobs that were threatening to overwhelm her.

“He killed him. Arobynn killed Sam,” she sobbed. “I should’ve been there to save him, I was supposed to be there that night. But something had come up at work, and I was late getting to his apartment.” A broken noise sounded in her throat. “There was so much blood Rowan. All over the floor, bloody handprints, bloody shoe prints, trails  _ everywhere _ . The police didn’t know if he’d even survived while being dragged out.”

The memories of that night flooded through her mind, memories she had always tried so hard to repress. The color of the carpet of the apartment soaked with Sam’s blood. The handprints that had shown he’d tried to fight. His phone on the floor, a text composed to her saying “I’ll see you soon, I love you.” A text that would never be sent.

She didn’t notice that Rowan had crouched in front of her, gently prying away her hands that were gripping her shirt and the skin of her throat to the point of pain. Tears flooded her vision, making him a blurry mess in front of her but she didn’t have to see him to know there was a look of heartbreak on his face.

“Aelin, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pulling her to him.

He stood with her in his arms, getting them up off the floor. He carried her to the couch and sat down, holding her close to him. She cried and cried and cried into his chest until the tears ran dry and her body heaved as she tried to calm down. All the while, he held her impossibly close, one large arm wrapped around her, one at the back of her head, in her hair, massaging her scalp lightly in an attempt to help her calm down.

“I’m so sorry you lost him like that,” he whispered to her, running his fingers through her hair. “No one deserves to lose someone like that. Especially not you.”

She hiccuped and then sighed, peeling her face from the massive wet stain on her shirt. She frowned at it and then looked up into his face, those pine green eyes so incredible, his handsome face so close to hers.

“I’m sorry I got your shirt all wet,” she rasped, trying to lighten the mood.

His eyes never left hers as he wiped the remainder of dampness off her cheeks. He then cupped her face in one hand and she unconsciously leaned into his comforting touch.

“Never apologize for how you feel,” he murmured, running his thumb over her cheekbone.

They were silent for a moment, eyes locked, her face still pressed into his hand. She slowly put her hand to his face, tracing fingers delicately over his jaw, his cheek. He watched her intently, roving over her face as if trying to solve a puzzle. 

“Make me forget, Rowan.”

He startled slightly when she spoke, eyebrows furrowing. 

“What do you mean…” he trailed off when she pressed a kiss to his jaw, trailing her lips to his.

She kissed him slowly, thoroughly, her hands coming up to rest against his neck. He pulled back slightly, noses brushing, and frowned.

“Aelin I’m not sure…”

She shook her head, resting her forehead against his.

“Make me forget about everything. I want your name to be the only thing I remember,” she breathed against his mouth.

His mouth connected with hers, wrapping his arms around her and hefting them up off the couch, carrying her up the stairs and into their bedroom. Their lips disconnected as he laid her down on the bed, standing over her, his hands gripping her calves. Slowly, purposefully, he began to undress her, sliding her jeans and panties off in one sweep as she pulled her shirt off, tossing it to the side. She quickly removed her bra and was completely naked before him, stretched out on the bed, ready for Rowan to take her. 

“Do your worst, detective,” she murmured.

A smirk flitted across his face but he shook his head, pulling his clothes off as well. She swallowed hard as he stood above her, his proud length the first thing she zeroed in on. Her belly tightened and her eyes flicked back up to him as he knelt over her. 

And then his hands were on her. He traced his finger tips over her delicately, so softly that goosebumps erupted along her skin. The touch was like Rowan was eyeing precious jewels, afraid that too hard of a grip would ruin them. Ruin her. She hadn’t been touched like this, hadn’t wanted to be touched like this since Sam.

His hands drifted over every inch of her, up over her hips, skating across her stomach, over her shoulders, up the curve of her neck, one hand resting against it while the other one came up to caress her face, his thumb following the curve of her jaw, moving up to her full bottom lip. He ran his thumb across it once, twice, before leaning down and capturing her lips in his. He kissed her deeply and then pulled back, causing her to gasp slightly.

  
“Aelin,” he breathed, fingers tracing over her cheekbones, lips following.

Her eyes fluttered shut as his mouth moved over her face and down her neck, leaving fire in his wake as that mouth of his moved down her body. Fire that made her want to burn for him, fire that left her breathless as his lips kissed over the curve of her breast, wrapping around a nipple to suck gently and slowly. A sound escaped her, her hands balling fists in his hair. Rowan’s fingers trailed up her side, along the underside of her breast, thumb rolling over the nipple there as his mouth gently assaulted the other. His tongue swirled around the peak, and when his teeth grazed against it, a moan tumbled out of Aelin’s mouth.

“Rowan, please,” she groaned.

He hummed against her skin then proceeded to move right between her legs. His fingers wrapped around her thighs and pulled them farther apart, bearing her for him, his for the taking. The sight of his darkly dyed head between her legs was almost enough to set her on fire. He kissed up one thigh, sucking and licking so close, too close to where she desperately wanted him, before he moved to the other, planting biting kisses as he had on the first. She was about to grab him, to tell him to get on with it, when he pulled her leg over his shoulder, exposing her even more. His hand came up against her hips, pinning her down as the tip of his tongue teased her folds. 

His name fell off her lips as she tightened her hands in hair, pulling gently. He almost groaned at the way she was so responsive to him, his name sounding like a prayer on her lips. He slid his tongue between her folds, his free hand coming to circle her clit as he feasted on her. Every cry, every moan, every time she said his name, it fueled him faster, his mouth and fingers worshipping her the way she deserved. He felt her hips buck against his hand keeping her down, her nails digging into his scalp. 

His mouth closed around her clit, sucking it into his mouth, and she shattered, legs shaking as she came undone around him. He kissed up her body as she shook, eyes squeezed shut, mouth sinfully open. He placed a kiss to it, tongue swirling in her mouth and she moaned, tasting herself on him, pulling him closer to her, their chests pressed together.

Her fingers explored his body as he kissed her, legs wrapped around him, ankles resting against the dip of his back. Her hands slid over his broad shoulders, leaving a warm tingle in their wake. She pressed her fingers into the notches of his spine, running up and down as she continued to pull him impossibly closer, as if she wanted nothing to separate them, not even air. His hands on her too, one gripping her thigh, the other tangled in her hair as he pressed his swollen lips to her equally swollen ones. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she looked utterly beautiful and wanton beneath him. 

He pulled his lips from hers, looking at her as she opened her eyes. His cock hardened even more at the blaze in those blue eyes, eyes that roved over him with a need and want that he was sure echoed in his own. 

“Rowan,” she whispered against his mouth, pressing her hips against his in a silent demand.

He groaned as his cock slid along her wetness, a precursor to what was about to happen. He lined himself up at her entrance and then connected his gaze with hers before pushing into her gently, slowly. When he bottomed out, Aelin gasped, head thrown back, throat exposed to him in almost a primal way that had his mouth descending on her skin, kissing and biting and sucking as he rolled his hips into hers, starting to thrust into her. 

The tip of him rubbed against that one spot inside her, causing panting gasps to escape her as Rowan picked up his pace. She was amazed, amazed that they fit together so perfectly, how his touch electrified her, made her want to erupt for him, to burn for him as he reached deep inside her. He laced their fingers together, bringing their hands up to rest on either side of her head as they moved together, so in sync that the pleasure built and built, quickly threatening to consume her. 

She felt herself tighten around him, felt it deep in his chest when he groaned, his thrusts becoming a bit harder as he hit that spot over and over, making her cry out his name in a broken, breathy voice. A second later, she crashed around him as he bit her neck, tears springing in her eyes as she spasmed around his cock, legs tightening around his waist as he rode out her orgasm.

He kissed away the light tears, slowing his movements as he kissed her again and again, drawing out as much pleasure from her as possible. Rowan Whitethorn was going to ruin her, and she was going to let him. There was no going back from this.

He began to build her back up, unlacing one pair of fingers to grab her jaw gently as his thrusts hit deep, knocking the breath out of her. His lips never left her face, pressing small, soft kisses to her mouth, her nose, her cheeks, her forehead as he rocked into her. His speed increased when her hips kept bucking up to meet his, wanting more from him, needing more from him. His grip on her chin tightened ever so slightly and she kissed him hard as he pounded into her. His release was so close and when he felt Aelin tighten around him again for a third time, he knew this time they would fall off the edge together. 

“Aelin,” he ground out as her free hand dug into the back of his neck, her teeth pulling at his bottom lip.

The sound of him growling her name was the tipping point, causing her to cry out his name as she clenched around him again and again. He followed her soon after, her name a litany coming out of his mouth as he spilled into her, shaking just as she shook, skin on skin on skin as they tumbled over the precipice. 

  
  



	8. Chapter Eight

Aelin woke up on her own, her eyes blinking sleepily at the buttery sunlight filtering through the room. She sighed in content, turning her head to the side.

Rowan lay next to her on his stomach, his arm thrown over her, his face barely visible from where it was shoved into the pillow. He was breathing deeply, still fast asleep. She watched him sleep, absentmindedly running fingers through his hair lightly. 

To say last night was great would be an understatement. It was… she didn’t really have words for it. Rowan had met her every want and need, keeping her up half the night shaking and crying with pleasure. He made it all about her, no matter how many times she wanted to put her hands on him, her mouth on him. He had stuck to her words. By the time she’d fallen asleep, all she could think about was him, all she could see was him, all she could smell, taste, touch was him. 

She frowned as she ran a finger down his jaw. She wasn’t sure what to make of this. She was too smart to know they wouldn’t go back to being colleagues who sometimes annoyed each other. But to open up her heart to him, to let him in… 

She pulled her hand back, sighing. She couldn’t go down that path. Not when they were both in a job that was dangerous. She’d already lost Sam to the job. She couldn’t allow herself to fall for Rowan and end up losing him too. 

She slipped from under his arm, throwing on a large T-shirt and leggings and heading downstairs to find something to eat. As she rifled through the kitchen, she searched for ingredients to make anything that would sate her hunger. When she finally decided on french toast, she pulled out the ingredients and lined them up on the counter and got to work. With every breath, she struggled to keep herself on task, to keep her mind from drifting to the man that lay sleeping upstairs.

She was halfway through making breakfast for the both of them when she heard the patter of heavy feet come into the kitchen. She closed her eyes at the same time his strong arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on the top of her head. 

“Good morning,” he murmured, his chest rumbling against her back. She wanted to lean back against him, to forget about breakfast and turn in his arms, press her lips to his, and beg him to take her on the very counter she was cooking breakfast on.

Instead she tensed in his arms. 

“Good morning to you too,” she muttered, flipping the toast over. 

She felt him sigh and pull away from her, then heard him pull out a stool and sit down.

“Alright, go ahead and tell me that you wish last night hadn’t happened.”

She startled, dropping the spatula on the floor. She muttered a curse and picked it back up, setting it on the counter before turning to look at Rowan. He was resting his arms on the counter, an eyebrow raised. She took in his handsome face, his eyes still heavy with sleep, his hair messed up from sleep and when she had gripped it tightly in her hands the night before. Her heart squeezed painfully at how normal, how _ right _ it felt to have him sitting there, as if he was waiting for her to finish breakfast so they could sit together and eat, trading sweet kisses back and forth. She shoved the thoughts away, looking back to the toast for a second. 

“I wasn't going to say that,” she said slowly.

“Maybe not, but you’re going to say something aren't you?”

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. “Don’t do that. It was just sex. Really great sex. But that's all it is, and all it’s going to be. So you can stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m sorry princess, were you worried I’d fall for you after one night of sex?” he asked in a sarcastic tone, his head propped up on his hand in almost an insolent way.

She flipped him off and turned back to the toast. “Fuck you, Whitethorn. I’m fine with keeping it to just sex.”

“Then why are we even having this conversation?”

She groaned, exasperated. “If you don’t stop talking I’ll revoke my offer to keep sleeping with you.”

“I don’t care what we do, Galathynius. As long as we get this mission done.”

She clenched her jaw, nodding. She wanted to scream at him, to have him look past her lie and tell her how he felt about their new situation, but he didn’t. And she wouldn’t be the one to bring it up to him.

They ate breakfast in silence.

-

A week later, Aelin was getting antsy. Every lead they followed up on was a dead one, she couldn’t find a way to contact Wesley— she had exhausted every number she could think of, had managed to find an address but the apartment was empty; and lastly, Arobynn didn’t seem to be in town. 

Which meant now had to be the time they broke into his apartment and took a look around. 

That was why Rowan was now crouched down, tools in hand, rattling the door handle to get the deadbolt to give way so they could get inside. The lock clicked, the noise almost too loud in the air filled with tension. Despite that she knew Arobynn wasn’t home, her heart still thundered in her chest. 

They entered the apartment and immediately secured it one room at a time, guns aimed and ready to fire lest they be caught unaware inside the apartment. They found nothing, which made her feel a little bit better about their mission. There seemed to be no cameras, no signs that Arobynn was going to come back soon, so she lapsed into a busy silence as she and Rowan combed through the apartment looking for evidence. 

They reached his office and spent more time in it, looking over every piece of paper they could find. Aelin picked the lock on a drawer and pulled out a hefty stack of papers, flipping through them. Some were crumbled, others were pristine, some had words that were so faint they were almost hard to see.

“Rowan,” she called, spreading the papers out on the desk. He came over to look at them with her.

“Look,” she muttered, pointing to some tri-folded papers. “These are bank statements from The Wastes. And from Wendlyn. He’s been funneling money into foreign bank accounts.” Some of them were torn into strips, but she could still put them together to make sense of them.

She pointed to the papers next to the statements. “These are receipts on drug shipments. The amounts of the shipments are the same amount being put into these accounts. He’s been pumping opium into the clubs of Rifthold.”

“What a bastard,” Rowan muttered, starting to take pictures of the papers.

More papers of receipts were in the massive pile. Records of drug shipments, of arms shipments, of what he paid to get girls out of Terrasen and into Rifthod. What he charged for each girl to be used in his club. Her stomach churned as she went through the papers pertaining to the club, contracts between Arobynn and the girls, who no doubt had no choice in whether or not to sign them. Documents that detailed the girls down to the street they had lived on. Their height, their weight, eye color, hair color, distinguishing marks, if they were a virgin or not. Aelin shoved the papers away, disgust roiling through her body. 

She got to the end of the pile, where a manilla folder sat, stuffed full of papers. Aelin frowned, sitting at the desk as Rowan took pictures to use as evidence of the rest of the documents. She flipped open the folder and almost shot back out of the chair at what she saw.

Her government issued picture was stapled to papers that anyone in the CIA or FBI could get access to. Her bio, her stats, her acts of service, her medical records. Some things were underlined in red ink, things like cases she had solved, her birth place, the names of her parents. 

_ What is he doing? _ She thought as she flipped through to the next page.

Classified information on her parents; where they were born, who they were related to, what her mother did in the government and what her dad did at the CIA. Paper clippings of the Terrasen Times applauding the work of her father. Her father’s birth certificate, her mother’s birth certificate. A crudely drawn out Galathynius family tree that went all the way back to King Brannon, the last king of Terrasen that had ruled just over one hundred years ago. She covered her mouth with her hand to keep herself quiet, not wanting to alert Rowan to what she had found. 

The next page was scribbled notes about her. Red ink was smudged in some places, Arobynn’s usually neat writing sloppy as if he had to write fast to get everything down. 

_ Aelin Galathynius’s family is the last living descendants of the kings and queens of Terrasen _

_ Aelin received her job due to her father, she never would have gotten it otherwise _

_ She has a strong influence in the agency already…. More to follow _

_ Aelin Galathynius is a security threat to the agency, she knows too much _

_ Rolfe says I’m crazy, says there’s no proof that the Galathynius’s are the rightful heirs to the country _

_ Aelin is a threat to Terrasen _

_ Aelin Galathynius is a threat to Terrasen _

_ AelinAelinAelinAelinAelinAelinAelinAelinAelinAelinAelinAelinAelinAelinAelinAelin _

Aelin shot to her feet, the chair rolling back to hit the wall. Rowan spun to face her, but she couldn’t focus on him, couldn’t focus on anything except the red words on the paper, angry and almost damning as it seemed with every sentence Arobynn wrote down, he was slowly losing his mind. 

Everyone in Terrasen knew that her family were descendants of the last king of Terrasen. But that had been over 100 years ago. The country had shifted to a democracy after the death of the king, the only living heir having fled to Wendlyn because he didn’t want to take up his father’s mantle. But to assume that her family was going to take over the country… to assume that she was a threat to the country because she was a descendant from King Brannon… 

Arobynn had truly lost it. Had he killed her parents because he thought they would’ve rebelled against the country, to try to take their place as the “rightful heirs” to Terrasen? Aelin’s breath quickened, and she suddenly felt dizzy as she read Arobynn’s words over and over.

“Holy fucking gods.”

Aelin jumped, abruptly being pulled out of her stress-ridden thoughts by Rowan’s sudden exclamation. He was next to her, peering over her shoulder at what Arobynn had written.

“He’s fucking insane,” he said, eyes reading over the notes.

Aelin shakily flipped the page, seeing red writing that was messier and somehow more menacing than the last page. 

_ Rhoe has been keeping an eye on me, I know it _

_ Everywhere I turn he’s there _

_ Aelin seems to be gaining popularity _

_ She has the full confidence of Fenrys Moonbeam, a higher up in the FBI _

_ Could she be trying to take her throne? _

_ It’s November 21, 2016. They can’t know what I did _

_ They asked for it _

_ I killed them they’re dead _

_ ikilledthemikilledthemikilledthemikilledthemIKILLEDTHEM _

_ AELIN. _

Here was the confession that would damn him.

Right here written in the same color of the blood that had coated her father’s head, her mother’s throat.

Instead of being relieved, Aelin turned to the trashcan next to the desk and heaved the contents of her stomach up over and over again. Her legs shook, her hands were clammy, but as she hurled her guts up, the firm, steady hand at her back, Rowan’s hand, grounded her. He rubbed her back as she threw up, his simple touch a lifeline that kept her from losing herself as her life had turned upside down with bloody words scratched across pages of paper.

  



	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: sexy times lie ahead... nsfw

Aelin sat at the dining room table, the file from Arobynn’s apartment and copies of all the papers they’d taken pictures of spread out before her. She was dressed in a blue silk robe, her dyed brown hair pulled up in a messy knot atop her head. Dark circles sat under her usually bright eyes, and she was clutching a half empty coffee cup that had gone cold hours ago. 

She hadn’t gone to bed last night; she’d tried to, she really did. But after what they’d discovered yesterday, after drawing a line in the sand with Rowan, she couldn’t stay in bed. She’d been downstairs looking over all the paper since midnight, and as she blinked and looked at the clock, she saw it was seven in the morning. 

She sighed and looked back to the papers, shuffling them around. She was no closer to the truth than she was hours ago. She rubbed her temples and then looked to the burner phone she’d bought yesterday. She didn’t know if she could trust Rolfe or anyone else at the CIA anymore, and didn’t want the chance that they’d listen to her phone calls on her government issued phone. 

She worried her lip with her teeth and then sighed again before picking up the phone and dialing a number she knew by heart. She listened to the monotone ringing for a few seconds before a familiar, tired voice answered.

“Aedion, it’s me,” she muttered into the speaker. 

“Aelin?” She heard some shuffling around. “What are you calling from, I don’t recognize the number.”

“I got a burner phone. Listen, I need to talk to you.”

And so she explained everything that had happened since arriving here in Rifthold, everything she and Rowan has found. She talked about the file Arobynn had on her and her parents, about how it made no sense why he’d done it. She read the notes to him, her voice shaking the whole time. 

“And so now we’re at a standstill. We have all the evidence available to book him but… Aedion. Arobynn… he…” she stopped for a second to take a deep breath. “He killed Sam, Aedion.”

“Holy fucking gods,” Aedion muttered.

“The CIA knows about it. They knew the whole time. Sam’s case was closed months ago, and no one ever told me.”

Aedion was silent for a moment. “What does this mean, Aelin? Do you think they know more than what they’re letting on?”

“Wesley seems to think so. And I believe him. That’s why I’m calling from this phone. I don’t know who I can trust. If they know about Sam, then they know about mom and dad. And they never fucking told me.”

“What do you need me to do?” he asked, his voice firm.

Tears sprung in her eyes that he wanted to help her. “I need you to go to the house. The keys are in my bedside table. See if you can find anything that could help me out. Documents, journals, anything. I don’t know why Arobynn is convinced my parents would’ve taken over Terrasen. Dad never talked about the family history that much.”

“Okay. I’ll do what I can.” A pause. “Besides that, how are you holding up? How’s working with Whitethorn?”

Aelin closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She’d been hoping to avoid the topic of Rowan.

“Aelin?” She heard him huff a laugh and she could imagine her cousin smirking at her. “What did you do?”

“I slept with him,” she muttered.

He laughed for real this time and she debated hanging up on him. “It’s not funny!”

“A, if I know you, you slept with him and then ran the other way didn’t you?”

She clenched her jaw. “Maybe.”

Aedion sighed his time. “I can’t tell you what to do, and I can’t make you listen to my advice. But love, it’s been three years.”

“Aedion—” she started in a warning tone but he cut her off.

“Sam wouldn’t want you to be miserable, Aelin.”

“I can’t,” she whispered into the phone, bringing her knees up to her chest. “I can’t go in that direction, Aedion. I can’t let myself be with Rowan and then end up losing him like I did Sam. It would ruin me.”

“Rowan isn’t Sam. He’s a Marine veteran, for gods’ sake. He knows how to take care of himself. He’s risen in the ranks of the FBI for a reason. It wouldn’t be a bad thing to love him.”

She was already shaking her head even though he couldn’t see her. It was a line she couldn’t, wouldn’t cross. 

“I have to go,” she told him, her voice thick with tears. 

Before he could try to say more she hung up, tossing the phone onto the table. She put her hand on her forehead, staring at her lap as her vision went blurry. Tears dropped onto her silk robe, darkening the pale fabric. A sob escaped her mouth and she moved her hand to press against her mouth so she didn’t wake up Rowan. 

She cried for everything that had happened these past couple of weeks, for her parents, for Sam. For her life, which seemed to be furiously unraveling before her eyes. 

She didn’t understand what was going on, why Arobynn had targeted her parents. She remembered the last time she saw them, at their weekly Sunday night dinner. They’d laughed and joked around, Aedion and his parents joining them like they always did. The night had been full of light and love and laughter. 

And then three days later, she’d been corralled into a private meeting room where the interim CIA director and Rolfe had told her that her parents were dead, murdered in cold blood. She vaguely remembered that day. She’d fainted, and then when she’d woken up, had demanded to see her parents’ bodies. Rolfe had protested but after she broke the window of the meeting room, he’d taken her to the morgue. 

It had taken only one look at their bodies for her to break down in front of the table that held them. She’d fallen to her knees, tears in her eyes as she had thrown up over and over again. It was a sight that haunted her nightmares, that still chased her from sleep. 

Her mother’s throat had been slit wide open, and despite the calm, sleeping expression of her face, Aelin had known her mother had been very much awake when she had choked to death on her own blood. The inside of her throat had been exposed, all red and pink and tissue, a grisly sight that still churned Aelin’s stomach if she thought about it.

Her father had been shot in the head. An entry and exit wound sat on either side of his temples, blood caked all over his face, the gray tissue of his brain visible through the wounds. He’d been dead as soon as the bullet entered his head. Both of them, slaughtered in bed late at night as they had laid next to each other. 

There had been no signs of forced entry, no evidence of someone being in the room. No hair, no fingerprints, no DNA had been found at the crime scene. The only possible lead they had, had been that her father had fired Arobynn Hamel the day before he and his wife were found dead in their house. But even then, it had been circumstantial. Hamel was already booked for corruption, arms dealing, running prostitution rings, and many other things that the CIA hadn’t tacked on the murder of her parents to the long list of charges against him. 

And then almost a year later, Sam had died. She’d left the office later than usual, and on the way to his apartment she couldn’t escape the feeling that something was wrong. As she’d unlocked the door to his place and was immediately greeted with the sight of ruby red blood everywhere, her worst fears had become real. She had screamed as she fell to her knees in the doorway of Sam’s apartment, the sounds alerting his neighbors and then triggering many calls to the police as she knelt there. 

A muffled sob escaped her hand covering her mouth, her eyes squeezed shut as tears fell. Her pulse thundered in her ears as her heart squeezed painfully, knocking the breath out of her. She couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t go on, not when everything was opening wounds she’d tried so hard to close. 

She jumped when she felt a hand on her back, pulling her hands from her face. Through blurry tears, she looked up into Rowan’s concerned face, more tears spilling over. He sat down in the chair next to her, pulling it so that they were knees to knees with each other, Rowan grabbing her free hand as her other rubbed at her face. His other hand came to her bare knee, smoothing his thumb over her skin in comforting circles, the thumb of his hand holding hers repeating the same motion. 

“Talk to me,” he murmured to her. 

Through shaking sobs, she told him about her parents and Sam and how she was feeling inside. How it felt like at any moment she was going to fall apart, her heart threatening to shatter into pieces. Ever since their deaths, she had always struggled to be whole again. For three years she had worked hard and nonstop to fill the void that they had left. No more Sunday dinners. No more lounging in Sam’s arms in the morning before getting up for work, not wanting to leave his warm embrace. 

And now, when it felt like Rowan was starting to fill that void, starting to repair the cracks her loved ones’ deaths had left, everything was turning on its head, threatening to drown her like a tempestuous ocean during a storm. 

“I don’t know what’s going on, Rowan,” she hiccupped. “I don’t know what to do, who to trust. Nothing makes sense anymore.”

He pushed some strands of hair that had escaped her bun off her forehead, thumb wiping away tears on her cheeks. “You can trust me. We’ll figure this out together.”

She rested her forehead against his for a moment and then pulled back, sighing. She frowned as she looked at him, rubbing her forehead.

“I really want you to take me to bed but that’s not going to solve anything,” she muttered with an exasperated huff. 

A smirk twitched at his lips. “You know, it really doesn’t stroke a man’s ego when you only want to have sex with him because you’re emotionally distraught.”

“I don’t mean it like that.” She sighed again. “I meant… there’s something about being with you that makes me feel calm.” She looked into his face, eyes searching for something. “Can… you hold me? Just for a little while. I just… I need it.”

Rowan traced a finger down the side of her face and then nodded, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing into him as her arms came around his neck. He trailed his hand up and down her back as she rested her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent that she’d grown used to sleeping next to. Pine and mint and winter and Rowan. 

Before she knew it, the lack of sleep and constant stress forced her to succumb to sleep, body relaxing against Rowan’s as she drifted off.

-

Later that day, Aelin woke up in bed, covers drawn up to her shoulders. She blinked a few times before sitting up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She frowned and looked around the room before hearing running water in the bathroom. Rowan must’ve been in the shower.

She slipped out of bed and pushed the cracked door of the bathroom open. Indeed, there he was, his back to her as he rinsed soap from his hair. Her eyes trailed over the strong muscles in his back, all the way down to his toned backside, an ass she’d grabbed when they slept together. She bit her lip as she admired him, and didn’t let her gaze fall away as he turned, going still as he realized she was watching him. 

He rose an eyebrow but said nothing as they watched each other. He rubbed soap between his hands before lathering up his skin, smooth, seductive movements that had Aelin reaching for the ties of her robe, letting the silk fall off her shoulders and on to the floor. She stood there in nothing but a pair of underwear. His hands stopped moving on his chest as he took her in, his eyes lazily combing up her legs, over her hips, taking their time on her breasts before coming up to meet her gaze. His eyes were dark with lust, and she took one step towards the shower, fingers slipping between her skin and the fabric of her panties to pull them off before she heard her phone going off loudly in the bedroom, the noise causing her to blink and break out of her trance.

She smirked apologetically at Rowan before turning back to the bedroom and answering her phone. She didn’t recognize the number, but since it was her government phone she knew it could only be one person.

“Yes?”

“Hey, it’s me.” Wesley. “Two girls from Terrasen are new to the club. Nehemia Ytger and Kaltain Rompier.”

Aelin’s jaw clenched. The two girls had been missing for months. And now here they were, in Arobynn’s shitty and disgusting club.

“Okay. We’ll come for them.” She hung up the phone and went to her armoire to get dressed.

As she dressed and strapped her gun into her holster, she thought about everything Arobynn had done to her.

It was time to make him pay.

-

Aelin and Rowan were sitting in plush chairs near the side of the stage, the same scene before them. Hazy music, smoke in the air, a dark room with muted, colored strobe lights flickering on and off. 

She’d called Fenrys earlier to tell him to be at their apartment when they got back with the girls. The Cadre had come to Rifthold, ready to help Aelin and Rowan book Arobynn. After Rowan had called Lorcan earlier in the day to reveal everything they had found, the Cadre was travelling to Adarlan to provide backup. She knew Fenrys was in the crowd somewhere, ready to grab one girl as Aelin and Rowan grabbed the other.

Now they were here in the club, eyes searching the crowd for the faces of the girls that were now burned into Aelin’s mind. It was hard to see in this gods forsaken place, and she was beginning to get antsy when a girl plopped into Rowan’s lap where he was seated in the chair next to her. Aelin blinked once, all the surprise she would show as the leggy, pale blonde wrapped her arms around Rowan’s neck, a hand running through his hair. 

She expected Rowan to politely detach himself from the scantily-clad woman, but he didn’t as he looked up at her as she said something to him, her face close to his. His hand rested on her bare waist, and Aelin’s mouth actually dropped as the blonde ran a finger over his lips. The whole time, his attention was on her, not once flicking his gaze towards Aelin. 

Anger, hot and acidic, burned through her. Jealousy prickled along her arms and she got up from her chair and stomped towards the bar, not looking back to see if Rowan even noticed she left. As she neared the bar, she was appalled to find that tears were forming in her eyes. She sat at the bar and ordered a rum and coke from the burly bartender. 

She supposed she had no right to be mad at him. They weren’t together, and she had made it clear to him that she didn’t want to be with him beyond a sexual relationship. She’d erected walls around herself to keep him out, she shouldn’t have been mad that he turned his attention elsewhere. But after this morning, holding her in his arms until she’d fallen asleep, the heated exchange between them in the bathroom, she had hoped he hadn’t given up on her despite her stubbornness and refusal to entertain the idea of being with him, of loving him. 

She had just downed her drink when Fenrys came up to her, brows furrowed. She turned to him, ready for whatever he was about to tell her. 

“I found them.” She made to get out of her seat and follow him to the girls but he shook his head. “They’re with Arobynn.”

She followed his finger in the direction he pointed. Seated by the stage on a lounging couch, Arobynn was there, two girls perched on either side of him. He had a hand around Kaltain’s hip and they were rubbing a hand up and down his back as he drank, eyes on the stage. Rage chilled her veins and she took a step in their direction when Fenrys grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“You can’t go over there Aelin. We have to wait until they leave him,” he told her.

She looked back to where Hamel sat and then surveyed the room before turning back to Fen. 

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” she said and headed for the bathrooms, snatching something off a chair as she went by.

Two minutes later, she was back at Fenrys’s side. His eyes had been watching Arobynn and he looked back at her, swearing as he took in her sudden change of appearance.

Aelin was dressed in a dark red lingerie ensemble, a lace bustier and matching lace boyshorts, black heels on her feet. Covering the bottom half of her face was a sheer red cloth, the same type of covering that graced the faces of the other sex workers in the club. In her new outfit and her face covered, she blended in with the rest of Arobynn’s girls. 

“Aelin, this isn’t safe,” Fenrys hissed but she stepped away from him, shoving her bag in his arms before he could grab her.

“Get Rowan and get ready to grab the girls,” she told him in a husky voice before turning and walking over to where Arobynn sat, a seductive sway in her hips. 

Arobynn barely took his eyes off the stage of naked, dancing girls as she came up to him and sat in his lap, her back pressed to his chest. His hands came up to wrap around her waist almost automatically, and she knew that he was all too used to his girls sitting in his lap. His fingers brushed along the edges of her bustier, and she had to fight back a disgusted shiver. She leaned against him, bring a hand up to drag a finger down his cheek. 

He let out a low chuckle, pressing his lips to her neck. Her jaw clenched, and for a moment she wondered if she could actually go through with this long enough to get Nehemia and Kaltain away from him. 

“A little eager tonight, hm?” he murmured against her neck, hands slipping down to rest on her thighs. 

“Yes, sir,” she breathed, remembering that Elide had said that’s the only way the girls addressed him.

His hands tightened on her thighs as his lips left her neck.

“Leave us,” he barked to Nehemia and Kaltain, who immediately pulled away and left.

Aelin fought back a sigh of relief as the two young women left her line of sight. She jumped slightly as Arobynn’s hands traveled up her thighs, close to an area where she would surely slit his throat if he touched her there. 

“What’s your name, my love?” he asked, one hand coming up to pull her hair away from her shoulders as he planted kisses along her skin.

“Lilliana, sir,” she answered, hoping the shudder that ran through her could be dismissed as one of passion. 

“Why don’t you go get me a drink, Lilliana, and we’ll finish this in my room,” he murmured against her skin, a smile on his face that she could feel on her flesh.

“Anything for you,” she purred, standing up.

A quick pat fell across her ass and she almost gasped out, fighting every urge to spin around and slap him across the face.

“Hurry back to me love.”

She strode for the bar, peeking back over her shoulder to see that Arobynn had turned his attention back to the stage. She picked up her pace, eyes searching for where she had left Fenrys. He wasn’t there, but in his place was Rowan, her bag in his hands, and an undecipherable expression on his face. He reached for her, wrapping an arm around her waist as he led them toward the exit. They stopped in a shadowed alcove, Aelin changing back into her regular clothes before Rowan gripped her hand and led her out into the night.

-

They stepped into their apartment, Aelin immediately letting out a long breath of relief as she disarmed herself. 

“Does Fenrys have them?” she asked Rowan as she placed her gun on the coffee table in the living room. 

“Yes.”

He’d said one word, but it was packed with so much ice that Aelin turned to him, eyebrows raised. He stood there with his arms over his chest, eyes cold yet swirling with some emotion as he watched her. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” he asked, his voice suddenly too loud in the room.

She immediately went on the defensive, hands curling into fists at her sides. 

“I was helping us get the girls out of there!” she shouted at him. 

“By placing yourself right in Hamel’s hands? I  _ know _ you’re not that fucking stupid, Aelin!”

“I’m the only one here that was willing to do what it took to get them away from him!  _ You _ were too busy with a pretty blonde thing in your lap to even be bothered!” 

He barked out an incredulous laugh that only whetted her anger. “What, so you were jealous and decided the next step was to strip and pretend to be Hamel’s whore?”

She was in his face and slamming her hands against his chest, though she might as well have been hitting nothing but brick since he didn’t move an inch. 

“You are such a fucking ass!” She enunciated each word with a smack of her hands. 

“I was trying to get information out of her!” He gripped her wrists to halt her assault. “She wasn’t all that helpful and so I let her go and look to you and you’re not there. I go to the bar, spot Fenrys, and when I ask him where you are, he just points over to where you’re in Hamel’s lap letting him touch you!”

“Oh, so you were jealous too?” she asked, sarcasm thick in her voice.

“For gods’ sake Aelin, I was  _ scared _ !”

Her breath left her in one large whoosh, frozen at the words Rowan had just yelled at her. Taking in her momentary silence, he sighed and released her, running a hand through his hair, eyes not leaving hers. 

“I’ve felt fear before Aelin, and seeing you in Hamel’s lap, so close to him that if had pulled of that veil he would’ve known who you were. And that fucking scared me. We have no idea what he would do to you if he found out you were here, much less right there on his lap for him to do whatever he wanted.”

She bit her lip at his words. “I was fine.”

“I know you can take care of yourself,” he told her, coming up to her and placing his hands on her shoulders. “But we’re dealing with a man that’s killed people close to you. I don’t think he would hesitate to kill you as well.” His thumb stroked the underside of her jaw. “And I can’t…” He shook his head. “I can’t lose you, Aelin.”

His confession hung between them. She was stunned, not knowing what to say, what to do as they stared at each other. His words were words she’d dreamt he would say to her, but now that they were out, now that there was no taking them back, they were the last thing she wanted to hear. 

“Don’t do this,” she whispered, pulling away from him. 

“Are we really going to do this again?” Rowan asked, affronted.

She shook her head, mostly to herself as she wrapped her arms around herself. “We can’t do this Rowan.”

“We can’t, or  _ you _ can’t?”

“I can’t!” she yelled at him, tears burning her eyes. “I can’t do this. I can’t get attached to you and end up losing you. I already lost my parents. I already lost Sam. I can’t lose you. It would ruin me.”

“You won’t lose me Aelin—”

“Rowan, please,” she sobbed. “Please don’t do this. I can’t let myself love you.”

He came back up to her and grabbed her face in his hands, leaning down until they were nose to nose.

“Well, I let myself love  _ you _ ,” he breathed and his mouth descended on hers.

She gasped into his mouth, hands coming up to wrap around his neck as he lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs. The whole time, his mouth never left hers as he kissed her with a hot, slow passion. He kicked the door shut behind him and placed her back on her feet, hands running up her sides. 

He pulled her shirt over her head and then pushed down her jeans, her stepping out of them and into Rowan’s chest as she slid her hands up his chest. She tugged his shirt off, her fingers tracing over his smooth skin. He removed his pants as she touched him, her palm resting against his heart, feeling it beat beneath it. His fingers came to ghost over her collarbones and chest, so delicately that goosebumps erupted along her flesh. She traced the curves of his tattoo that covered his right side, barely touching his skin the way he touched hers. Her name fell from his lips in a whisper as he continued to drag his fingers across his skin, touching her as if she were more valuable than the most precious of gems. His hands deftly got her out of her lingerie as hers slipped into his underwear to pull them down until they were both naked. 

He wrapped his arms around her and placed her gently on the bed, hovering over her. His hands brushed along the curves of her face, caressing her cheekbones, tracing the shape of her lips until he lowered his face to hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, her skin on fire everywhere he touched her. Instead of landing on her lips, his mouth brushed across her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks. When they finally met hers, it was a soft, teasing kiss that told her he planned on keeping her up all night. His hand gripped her chin gently and claimed her mouth with his. 

Rowan’s nose dragged along her jaw, her neck, his breath tickling her skin as he kissed down her throat. When his tongue flicked out to drag across her neck, Aelin gasped out, hips bucking against his. She was drowning in him already, the waves of pleasure he was giving her crashing over her. A heady breath of laughter blew across her skin as his lips trailed down her chest, mouth wrapping around a peaked nipple to suck gently and slowly. A small curse fumbled across her lips as her fingers balled into fists in his hair. His hand came up to roll the other nipple, her back arching against his to better fill his mouth with her flesh.

“Rowan, please,” she whimpered, nails dragging over his shoulders lightly.

His lips placed wicked kisses down her body before he was on his knees before her, a sight that had her core blazing. He grabbed her knees and parted them, completely bare and open for him, and him alone. He kissed up each thigh, pausing before he got close to where she so desperately wanted him, moving to the other side and repeating the same motions. She knew that bruises would appear between her thighs and she didn’t mind on bit as he finally lifted her leg over his shoulder to angle her just right before his mouth was on her.

She cried out as his tongue delved between her folds, licking up to her clit before he pulled it into his mouth, sucking on it like it was the finest candy he’d ever tasted. She was already shaking, finger pulling at his dyed black hair, pushing her hips up. He groaned against her, the vibrations of the noise reaching deep into her core. He continued to roll her clit in his mouth as he pushed two fingers into her, a moan erupting from her as he pumped in and out of her. He curled his fingers to hit that little patch, the one spot that would have her falling off the edge for him. 

She couldn’t help the gasps that came out of her as he pleasured her, desperately trying to find the breath that Rowan took away from her. Her skin was on fire, her blood felt like it was boiling as his tongue did not stop its lavish attack on her. She wanted to erupt for him, knew she was going to erupt for him as stars claimed her vision, so bright like the flames she swore were licking across her skin. They burned brighter, her skin felt hotter as Rowan gently scraped his teeth on her clit, release barreling through her. She called out his name as she came, back arching up off the bed as her legs shook and shook. 

He came back up as she came down from her high, planting kisses on her neck before capturing her lips with his. She groaned as she tasted herself on him, an intoxicating taste as it was mixed with the taste of Rowan, a taste she wanted to spend the rest of her life memorizing. She reached down between them to return the favor, to take him in her mouth, but he grabbed her wrist and laced their fingers together, bringing them up to the side of her head.

“Later,” he muttered against her mouth.

Aelin made a noise in the back of her throat as he lined his cock up at her entrance, rubbing it between her folds a couple times before he pushed into her, their eyes never leaving each other’s as he bottomed out and let each other adjust to the size of the other. 

“Fuck, Aelin,” he ground out as she clenched around him, a silent order to make him move. 

He thrust into her with slow, deep rolls, starting out a pace that she knew would leave her breathless. She leaned up to connect her mouth to his neck, running her teeth along his throat as his hands wrapped in her hair. When his cock hit that spot deep inside her, her mouth fell from his neck, head falling back as she cried out his name. The sound of his name coming from her, breathy and broken, unleashed him. He pulled her closer, skin on skin as it seemed that something between them pulled them tighter together, a force that neither of them could or would deny as Rowan thrust into her hard, whispering words of adoration as the breath was knocked out of her with each deliberate stroke of him inside her.

All thoughts emptied out of her head as all five senses became overwhelmed by the man above her. She couldn’t think of anything except his name, couldn’t taste anything except his lips on hers, couldn’t smell anything except the heady scent of sex and Rowan’s cologne mixed with their sweat, couldn’t see anything except those blazing green eyes, completely and utterly entranced by his sensuous touches on her skin, the way he felt inside her, like they belonged together. 

Suddenly, he was dragging her up and into his lap, the new position allowing him to be seated deeper inside of her, allowed him complete control as he rocked in and out of her. Her head fell back and he took advantage of her exposed neck, kissing and licking every inch off her skin. Rowan Whitethorn was going to ruin her, was going to make it so no one would ever again be good enough for her, was going to claim her so deeply and passionately that he was going to be it for her. It was going to be Rowan or no one else. Her heart was irrevocably his as he held her face in his hands and kissed her as he pounded into her. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her lips, pushing her hair out of her face as he traced a finger down her cheek.

“I love you,” she told him, breathing the confession into his mouth, into his lungs as he kissed her.

It seemed impossible, but he managed to pull her closer, tightening his arms around her as his pace increased, dragging a groan from her throat. Her hands were raking up and down his back, nails leaving welts that she wished would stay forever, if only to permanently mark that he was hers. 

“I love you,” he said clearly, voice firm and no room for doubt. The words shattering her world but healing her heart, her soul as he murmured them again, lips never leaving hers.

She buried her face into his neck, kissing one spot over and over again as she finally fractured around him, tears springing into her eyes at the way it was so easy to let go, the way it felt like home to come undone for him, the way he called her name as his release followed hers. 

She fell back, taking him with her as her back hit the bed, her arms around his neck as they shook together. They traded slow, loving kisses as they came down together, fingers tracing delicate patterns on damp skin, three words murmured between them as Aelin’s heart wove back together, her soul rested and at peace as Rowan declared his devotion to her.

  
  



	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: nsfw in the beginning, and then some violence but nothing too bad!

Soft lips and sinful hands were all over her skin as their touches pulled her out of a deep sleep. She hummed in content as she came to, hand lazily coming up to run through his hair as he kissed across her collarbone.

“Good morning,” Aelin murmured, eyes fluttering open to the sunlight streaming through the window.

“Good morning, love,” Rowan said against her skin, lips against her jaw.

She tangled herself in him and rolled them over, sitting up to look down at him at the way the sunlight caught little gold flecks in his eyes as it kissed his silvery head. He smiled up at her, hands sliding up her sides.

“Are you going to run this time?” he asked cheekily, fingers skirting the undersides of her breasts, a low hum sounding in her throat.

She slid down his body, peppering kisses along his pelvic bone. She paused right at the base of his hardening cock and looked up at him as her tongue flicked out and licked up his length. His hips jerked as he groaned, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“Does that answer your question?” she asked huskily before taking him into her mouth.

He didn’t hold back as she pleasured him, moving her mouth up and down him, allowing him to hit the back of her throat. She enjoyed watching his eyes roll back as she gently cupped his balls and squeezed, his cock twitching in her mouth. She hummed, the vibrations jolting through his cock as she took him as deep as she could. She oh so carefully peeled her lips away from her teeth and ran them gently along his length, a move that had his hand shooting down to grip her hair, a lust filled glare crossing his features. 

“I don’t think so, baby,” he drawled, roughly yanking her back up his body.

She gasped in surprise as he rolled them back over and swiftly entered her, a sensation that she hoped she never got used to. Moans filled the air as Rowan fucked her with abandon, his hands igniting her skin on fire as they pleasured each other. 

-

Aelin woke up for the second time today, but this time she was alone in bed. She glanced at the clock to see it was three in the afternoon. She huffed a laugh, sitting up. Rowan definitely knew how to wear her out. 

Speaking of…

She languidly got out of bed and put some clothes on, pulling her hair into a braid. She padded downstairs, brow furrowed as it seemed that Rowan was no where to be found. She spied a piece of paper on the counter and picked it up.

_ Went over to help Fenrys and Lorcan. I didn’t have the heart to wake you, you looked so beautiful sleeping… be back soon. I love you. -R _

She found herself grinning like a fool. She absentmindedly dug through the fridge to find something to eat, her thoughts turned towards the man that had captured her heart so thoroughly. 

She never thought in a million years she would’ve fallen for Rowan Whitethorn. At worst, he had been the biggest pain in her ass. At best, he’d been a mildly irritating colleague. When Rolfe had told her he was going to be on the case with her, she had felt like the world was ending. 

But now everything had changed. Rowan had managed to slip through the cracks of her defenses, winning her over with his looks, his intelligence, his dedication, his drive. The way she felt around him was new to her, different from how she felt with Sam, but it was true that you didn’t love different people the same way. Sam had been a steady, constant force at her back, someone she had known throughout high school and college, a love that was soft and familiar and had been perfect for the person she’d been three years ago.

Rowan was the love she needed now, after she had changed from that person three years ago, a young woman who didn’t exist anymore. A woman who had gone through pain, loss, and heartbreak and came out of it stronger but unwilling to let herself go through it again. He had shown her that it was okay to lean on someone, it was okay to let someone in. He had shown her that it was possible to love someone again, that it was possible to want to feel that way again. He complimented her in every way, a true equal to the woman she was now. 

The ringing of her cellphone pulled her out of head. She saw Fenrys’s name on the screen and picked up.

“Hey Fen-”

“Is Rowan with you?” Fenrys interrupted.

She frowned. “No… he’s supposed to be with you.”

“I know, but he never showed up.”

Every though emptied out of her head. 

No. This couldn’t fucking be happening. 

She could barely hear anything Fenrys was saying as she stormed through the house. She was shoving knives into a thigh sheath, into the sheaths in her boots. She clipped on her gun, making sure it was fully loaded before throwing open the front door, ready to comb every street to look for the man that held her heart in his hands. Fenrys was firing directions at her but she ignored him as she watched a piece of paper flutter to the ground. She picked it up.

_ Did you think I wouldn't realize who I had in my hands last night? I've been watching you watch me Aelin Galathynius. _

Her hands shook as she held the scrap of paper, the handwriting, the red ink so familiar, a color she had nightmares about. She stopped hearing, stopped seeing anything besides the hasty scrawl on the paper. She flipped it over and blinked in surprise. An address was written, an address that just happened to be less than twenty blocks away.

“ _ Aelin _ .”

The snap of Fenrys’s voice rang through her head but she was already running, barking the address into the phone and telling him to bring backup. She hung up and increased her pace, an all out sprint as she ran for the warehouse that she and Rowan had just surveilled the other day. Of course Arobynn would play this game.

She had been stupid. So stupid, so naive to think that he wouldn’t realize she was in town. So stupid to not realize Arobynn would take the one thing she cared most about, her one weakness, and use it against her. This is exactly what she’d been afraid of, and she’d allowed it to happen. This job, this life was dangerous, and she was about lose a man she loved for the second time.

Sweat ran down her temples and back as she rounded a corner and her eyes landed on the warehouse just up ahead. On the outside it looked like nothing special, an abandoned warehouse that no one had ever been seen coming in and out of. But she knew it was where Arobynn stored his arms and drug shipments, knew it was a temporary stop for the girls in his club before they were then transported to the warren of sin. 

She didn’t hesitate as she kicked open the locked door, hard enough that it fell off its rusty hinges. She whipped out her gun and held it in shaky hands as she crept down the barren hallway that opened up to the big, vacant warehouse. Her search for guards or any other henchmen turned up empty and then her eyes fell on a large man tied up in a chair in the middle of the space. 

A sob escaped her as she rushed for Rowan, falling to her knees in front of him, her hands pulling at the rope at his feet. She started mumbling words of comfort as she worked, tears blurring her vision as she tried to force herself to calm down. Blood, his blood, covered every inch of his face. One of his eyes was swollen shut, his lip split open, his nose broken. A deep cut ran through the eyebrow of his non-swollen eye, blood still slowly dripping onto his lap. His eyes were shut, chin against his chest, completely unconscious. 

She finally managed to get the ropes off of him, her hands going to his face, wiping at the mostly dried blood. She couldn’t, wouldn’t think of how long he’d been here, beaten to hell, wondering if anyone was going to show up and save him. 

“Rowan, baby, please wake up,” she cried, hands roving over the rest of his body to make sure he didn’t have any broken bones or other injuries she could detect. 

A groan sounded through his chest and a sob ripped through her lungs as he struggled to lift up his head. She tilted his chin up, hands cupping his face. 

“I’m here, I’m here,” she told him, her voice shaking.

“Aelin,” he slurred, his good eye opening slightly and then closing again. 

“You’re going to be okay,” she said, trying to convince herself more than him. “Don’t worry, I’m going to get you out of here. It’s okay, you’re okay. I love you.”

A low chuckle sounded from behind her and she was on her feet and spinning around, a knife in each hand. Arobynn stood feet away from her, his auburn hair secured at his neck, slight stubble painted on his jaw, his gray eyes flickering with cold amusement as he took her in. He was alone and didn’t seem to be armed, but she knew better than to assume he wasn’t. 

“Aelin Galathynius,” he greeted. “It’s been awhile.”

“You son of a fucking bitch,” she spat, not hesitating as she lunged for him, knives at the ready. 

She hadn’t reached for her gun. Oh no, she wanted the intimacy of a knife as she made him pay for everything he’d done to her over the past three years. She wanted to mean it when she stabbed him, wanted to feel it sink into his flesh. A cold calm swept over her as she began to attack him, years of combat training taking over. She slashed down towards his chest but he brought up an arm to block her at her wrist. Her other knife drilled up towards his stomach but again, he was there to block her, a wicked dagger flashing in his hand. 

She parried away and then sent a kick to his chest, sending him stumbling back to catch himself. She flipped the knife in her hand and went for him again, arms a flurry of motion as she tried to land a blow on him. It was two knives against one as Arobynn tried to bock her at every turn, but she managed a quick upper swipe to his face, blood immediately welling at the slash across his cheek.

They both paused as his blood dripped to the floor. He brought a finger up to the cut and examined the red liquid that stained his finger. He let out a crowing laugh, his dark eyes meeting hers. Her stomach flipped at the sound. He was enjoying this. 

Blistering rage swept through her, fueling her as she came at him again with newfound strength, a surprised look flashing across his face as he realized he couldn’t keep up with the pace and precision of her attack. She swiped his legs out from under him, managing to get an arm around his neck in the process. She kept him in a chokehold as he knelt, her hand coming down to stab him in the side. 

A howl of pain escaped his lips as he tried to buck her off, but she held on tight as she drove the knife in deeper, causing him to fall to his stomach. She took her other knife to his thigh, twisting it in the muscle that to remove it meant he would bleed to death. Screams and curses erupted from him and she was about to take his dagger and run it through his spine when hands wrapped around her arms, dragging her away. 

She thrashed against whoever held her, her eyes zeroed in on Arobynn’s prone form on the floor. She was yelling, cursing to be let go to finish the job when a voice broke through her rage.

“Aelin, stop.” Fenrys. “It’s over. You need to calm down.”

At his words, her limbs suddenly became heavy, as if the fight completely left her. She fell back in Fenrys’s arms and he held her as she sobbed, her cries clearing her head. After a few moments, she pulled back and spun to face where Rowan had been to see EMTs helping him out of the chair. He was barely conscious, his face contorted in pain as the medics carried most of his weight. 

“Go to the hospital with him,” Fenrys told her.

She shoved out of Fenrys’s embrace and ran for Rowan, her hands reaching to gently smooth over his face as the responders paused to let her look at him. 

“I am so sorry,” she breathed, her thumb swiping across his split lip.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine,” he murmured. “I love you.”

Tears pricked her eyes again and she returned the sentiment, allowing the medics to continue their way to where the ambulance was parked outside, Aelin hot on their heels. Rowan refused a stretcher but she bullied him into laying down on it, allowing the EMT team to put him into the ambulance. She climbed up into the back with him, sitting by his side and holding his hand tight, the rings on their fingers clinking together. Rings that were used as props for an undercover job, but now meant more to her than they had a month ago. She kissed his hand over and over again as the vehicle sped off into the night towards the hospital.

  
  



	11. Chapter Eleven

A knock sounded at the door to the hospital room, Aelin and Rowan looking up to see the doctor coming in.

“So the good news is that there’s no internal bleeding, no broken bones besides your nose, and you somehow miraculously avoided brain damage and a concussion. Despite the hell you’ve gone through, you’re a lucky man Agent Whitethorn.”

Aelin’s jaw clenched. Lucky. As if getting kidnapped by a psychopath and the shit being beaten out of him constituted that word. The doctor was going to be lucky if she didn’t end up punching him in the face. 

“We want to keep you here overnight to make sure you remain stable. If you do, you can go home tomorrow,” he continued, checking Rowan’s vitals.

He thanked the doctor and Aelin kept her mouth shut until the man left. As soon as the door closed, she unclenched her jaw.

“What a fucking–”

Rowan planted a kiss to her lips, cutting off the tirade she was about to launch into. He looked significantly better now that the blood had been cleaned off, his nose had been set, his eyebrow stitched up. But she still couldn’t shake her unease, couldn’t stop the fear and worry from swirling in her stomach. 

She frowned slightly when he pulled back, pushing a stray piece of hair out of her face. 

“You should go home and get some sleep,” he murmured to her. 

She scoffed, pressing a kiss to his palm before capturing it between her hands. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It was his turn to frown. “Aelin, I’ll be okay. You won’t get any sleep sitting in a chair all night. You can come back tomorrow morning.”

“Just…” she took a deep breath, feeling the telltale sting of tears about to flow. “Let me stay. I can’t… I won’t be able to go to sleep if I know you’re not next to me.”

_ I don’t want to wake up to you gone again _, is what she didn’t say.

As if he could see the words on her face, his own features softened and he nodded, leaning back in to kiss her with a love she felt deep in her bones. 

-

The next day when Rowan was allowed to be released from the hospital, they ended up driving straight to CIA headquarters despite Aelin’s constant bullying to get him to go home and get some more rest. He’d managed to finally convince her that she would want to get answers out of Arobynn as soon as possible. 

She stood at her desk, looking over everything in the folder that would damn Hamel one more time. All the pictures, notes, evidence, testimony, it was all there. The interrogation she and Rowan were about to perform was just one last chance to see if Arobynn would explicitly admit to murdering her parents and Sam. 

Aelin stood outside the door to the interrogation room, Rowan at her side. She stared blankly at the metal door, pulled into her head as she recited every question she was going to ask Hamel. After all this time, she was going to sit down with him, face to face. Hopefully this time, she would get the answers from him.

“You don’t have to do this,” Rowan said to her gently, pulling her out of her thoughts.

She took a deep breath. “No, I have to. I need to.”

And with that, she opened the door and slammed it behind them, dropping down into one of the chairs across from Arobynn, an insolent smile on her face as let the folder fall with a loud smack onto the metal table. Arobynn’s face was unreadable as he looked between her and Rowan, his heavily cuffed hands laced and sitting on the table in front of him. He was already in a gray jumpsuit, his auburn hair pulled back in a low ponytail, freshly shaven. 

“So by now you’ve probably deduced that you’re going to prison for a long long time, Hamel. This is your last chance to tell the truth about anything we haven’t already found out about you,” Rowan said, ice in his voice, face devoid of any emotion. 

Arobynn’s eyes flicked from him to Aelin, dismissing the agent at her side. Her jaw clenched but she maintained a look of neutrality as he levelled that cunning gaze on her. A small smile flirted across his lips, there and gone in less than a second. He leaned forward and her hand went to her gun on instinct. 

“You want to hear it, don’t you?” he asked, cocking his head. “You want to hear it from my lips that I killed your parents and your little boyfriend.”

Aelin said nothing, barely breathing as she didn’t break her gaze from Arobynn’s. She analyzed what she saw in his gray eyes, shocked that there wasn’t a hint of madness in them. No, his eyes were clear and concentrated as his stare bore into hers. It would be one thing to dismiss him as unhinged, a madman, but if he had maintained sanity these past few years… 

“I did it, Aelin Galathynius. I slit your mother’s throat, and then I shot your father in the head.” He smiled at her now, as if he’d shared a joke with her. “And when Sam Cortland was one clue away from finding out, I killed him too. I took my time cutting him up before dragging him off and finishing him with a bullet to the brain.”

She was shaking so violently that she could feel it in her teeth. Her eyes burned with tears but she couldn’t force herself to look away as Arobynn continued to hold her gaze. 

“Do you want to know where I put him?” he asked in a soothing tone, as if trying to corral a scared animal. “I put him in an unmarked grave. And you’ll never find him.”

Before she knew what she was doing, she was on her feet, chair falling back onto the floor. She yanked her gun out of her holster and swung it to connect with Hamel’s temple, a resonating crack sounding as he immediately slumped to the table, knocked out cold. 

She knew Rowan was talking to her, trying to soothe her, but she couldn’t hear anything except a roar in her ears, couldn’t focus on any one thought, couldn’t feel anything but an icy grip on her heart as she walked out the door and didn’t look back. 

-

A week later, the day before Arobynn Hamel’s court sentencing, Aelin was laying in bed with Rowan at his apartment, sunshine drifting around the room as their fingers lazily traced patterns over each other’s skin. Her head was on his chest, her hair back to its original golden blonde and splayed out around them. Rowan had shaved his head, much to Aelin’s dismay, but his silver hair was steadily growing back. 

“I want to do this for the rest of my life,” she sighed happily, tracing little hearts over his own heart. 

He chuckled underneath her, rolling them over so she was on her back, hovering above her. He placed kisses all over her face, causing her to let out a giggle before he kissed the laugh away. She loosely wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him back deeply. His hand slid down her body to hike her leg around his waist, his hips grinding against hers. She groaned against his mouth, biting his lip gently before pulling back to look at him. 

“Mm, I love you,” she murmured, tracing her thumb along his cheek. 

“I love you too,” he said back, a grin on his face as he kissed her once more.

Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him closer as his cock rubbed against her folds, causing them both to moan. 

“Gods, I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered before entering her slowly.

She sighed in content as he began to thrust into her lazily, his lips planting sinful kisses across her chest. 

“Do you have to go in?” she whined, a gasp escaping her as his thrusts picked up, hitting her harder.

“We have to make sure everything is set for tomorrow,” he breathed, pulling back to sit up on his knees, consequently pulling out of her. She pouted at the loss of him. 

“Besides,” he continued, gripping her thighs and yanking her to him, hips resting against his thighs as he entered her again, the new position allowing him to stroke that spot inside her that would have her coming undone for him in a matter of minutes. “You deserve the week off.”

She hummed, a small smile on her face as he began to pick up his pace. “You’re right. I do.”

Rowan laughed and Aelin decided it was one of the most amazing sounds she’d ever heard in her entire life. Her heart swelled as they made love, the force of her love for him washing over her as they tumbled off the edge together.

-

Rowan, Fenrys, and Lorcan had just finished up at headquarters, all the evidence for the prosecutor ready to go. Arobynn Hamel was going to get what was coming to him, and Rowan hoped he’d be locked up for the rest of his miserable life. 

“So, about time huh?” Fenrys smirked as they all filed out of the meeting room. 

Rowan raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“You and Galathynius.”

A smile crept across his face as he just shoved his friend and they headed out the door.

“But really, how is she doing? With everything?” Fen asked gently, waving to Lorcan as he headed the opposite direction they were going. 

Rowan sighed. “She’s… she’s okay. She’s slowly getting through it. It’s like pulling teeth trying to get her to open up and talk about it but she’s getting better.”

He didn’t know how to tell his friend that Aelin had felt like she’d lost her parents and Sam a second time. She hadn’t thought getting closure would’ve reopened the wound that their deaths had caused. She’d cried herself to sleep in his arms for days, barely acknowledging the world around her. He’d called Aedion to take her out for the day, and when she’d come back some of the weight had lifted off her shoulders. But she was still recovering.

They neared their parked cars and Fenrys turned to him, clapping him on the shoulder. 

“Well, let me know if you two need anything. And we should all get together some time.” 

Rowan nodded and they parted ways, Rowan driving to his apartment. He couldn’t wait to get back to Aelin, not wanting to leave bed, especially with her in it. He rolled up to the apartment within minutes and got out, skipping stairs to get into his place. 

“I’m home!” he shouted as he took his shoes off and emptied his pockets.

Aelin’s voice didn’t greet him back, but he assumed she must’ve been asleep. He walked into his room and saw she wasn’t there, the bed unkempt as if she had just rolled out of it. Frowning, he checked the bathroom. She wasn’t there either. 

“Aelin?” he called, checking every room in the house before coming back out into the living room.

Her shoes were still next to the door. Her car had been in the driveway, her purse and keys on the kitchen counter. He looked out into the backyard and didn’t see her there either. Nothing in the house was out of place. No signs of a break-in, no signs of a fight, nothing to reveal were she could have gone.

Heart stuttering, he dialed her number and listened to the monotone ringing. A chiming tone sounded back in his room and he raced back in, eyes searching for her phone. He kept calling it until he found it, on the floor half hidden by the comforter dangling over the edge of the bed. He unlocked it but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. One missed call from Aedion, but if she’d been sleeping she wouldn’t have heard it. 

He looked around the room, but again, nothing seemed out of place. It was as if she had disappeared into thin air.

Rowan fell to his knees, disbelief coursing through his veins.

Aelin Galathynius was missing. 

  



	12. Chapter Twelve

** _3 months later_ **

“Whitethorn, this is nearing insanity.”

Rowan looked up to see Lorcan and Fenrys staring at him, arms crossed over their chests. He sighed and looked back down at all the different documents spread over his desk. Newspaper clippings, criminal profiles, debriefings…

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead. “How could she have just… disappeared?”

It had been 3 months to the day that he had come home to Aelin Galathynius missing. It had taken 48 hours for the police, the FBI, and the CIA to take the missing persons report seriously. It had taken 9 days for them to reach a dead end. 6 weeks since Rowan had taken over the investigation himself despite the director telling him not to. 

Six weeks of exhausting every lead. Six weeks of barely sleeping because nightmares had started to plague him as soon as his eyes closed. He had no way of knowing where Aelin was, what she was doing, if she was being tortured, if she was dead. Every possibility ran through his head of every minute of every day. His dreams were hellscapes in which he watched with his own eyes Aelin being tortured in so many different ways. So many dreams in which it was her blood on his hands, his hands holding a whip or a knife as he stood over her limp body. So many dreams where he was running towards her but she kept getting farther and farther away until, by the time he finally reached her, she was on the ground, cold and lifeless. Every night he would wake up gasping for breath, drenched in a cold sweat. He couldn’t sleep in his bed anymore, knowing she’d been in it, had been right there next to him laughing as they’d made love the day she had disappeared. 

Lorcan was right, he was probably nearing insanity. He didn’t know how much longer he could take before he inevitable broke down. 

“Hamel’s in the interrogation room,” Fenrys told him.

Nodding, Rowan stood and made his way downstairs to the room, slamming the door closed behind him as he sat across from the red-haired man. He stared Hamel down. He looked leaner than the last time he’d seen the criminal, still freshly shaven, yet his long hair had been cut off and was now short. He looked bored as he sat there, wrists chained to the table.

“Can I ask what this is about?” Arobynn drawled. “I was beginning to enjoy my prison cell.”

“Aelin Galathynius has been missing for three months,” Rowan told him in a cold voice. “She disappeared the day before your hearing. Doesn’t that seem a little suspicious to you? Where is she, Hamel?”

The man raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Beats me.”

Rowan clenched his jaw and counted to five before asking again. “Where is she.”

“Agent Whitethorn, I quite literally have no idea where she is. Her going missing the day before my trial is mere coincidence; slightly strange, but still a coincidence. I had no way of executing a plan to kidnap Miss Galathynius, as I’ve been under maximum security from the time you two caught me until now,” he explained, the last part in a wry tone.

“Do you know of anyone who might be interested in taking her?” he demanded.

Arobynn shrugged. “Miss Galathynius is very well known in the underground crime community. She’s locked up a lot of people from there. I’m sure there are a lot more that have a score to settle with her.”

“We’ve spoken to every person she’s put behind bars, and have pursued leads they’ve given us. They were all dead ends,” Rowan told him.

Hamel huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re wasting your time, Agent Whitethorn. A tragedy that she’s missing, but I had nothing to do with it.”

“If I find out you’re lying…” Rowan growled, getting out of his seat.

“I’m sure you would like nothing more to put a bullet through my head,” Arobynn said airily, his tone almost tired. “You have more important things to focus on right now, though. For everyone’s sake, I hope she’s found. Left unchecked and to her own devices, Aelin Galathynius could wipe out governments and reduce nations to ash if she wanted.”

Frowning at what Hamel said, Rowan left the room, heading back upstairs. Fenrys was in the seat in front of his desk, thrown over it casually.

“So, did he have anything worthwhile to say?” Fen asked as Rowan sat down at his desk heavily, sighing.

“No. Just nonsense,” Rowan muttered as he shuffled some papers around.

Before Fenrys could reply, Rowan’s phone began to ring. Pulling it out, his eyebrows furrowed at the number he didn’t recognize, bringing it up to his ear.

“Agent Rowan Whitethorn speaking.”

There was a shuffle on the other end and then a feminine voice breathing his name in a pained tone. A voice he knew better than his favorite song.

“Rowan.”

-

Her eyes flew open, lungs gasping for air as the world tried to reorder itself around her. Her body felt heavy, like her arms and legs had lead weights tied to them. Her throat was sore and felt scratchy when she swallowed. A dull, nagging pain pounded between her ears.

Breathing coming in short pants, she looked around her, not knowing where she was. A living room, that much she knew, but it was not a living room familiar to her. Groaning, she patted herself down, trying to find anything that would be useful as to how she’d woken up here, when the last thing she’d remembered was-

Her mind went blank. Where had she been before this? What had she been doing?

Shaking her head to try and clear it, her fingers wrapped around a smooth object in her pocket. She pulled it out, sobbing in relief when she realized it was a cheap burner phone. She kissed it and sent a quick prayer up to whatever gods were watching her.

Dialing the first number that popped into her head, she rolled onto her side and tried to get up but hissed in pain when her arm gave out, sending her back to the floor. She tried to get up one more time as the phone rang, but blinding pain ricocheted through her head as soon as the person on the other line picked up, saying something she couldn’t even make out.

“Rowan,” she gasped out before the pain crested and took her under.

-

He hated how long it took to get there. Hated that even in a helicopter it took almost an hour. An hour of time that he could’ve spent next to her, wasted in a gods damned helicopter that wasn’t going fast enough for his satisfaction.

The phone call kept playing over and over again in his head as they finally began the descent into a military base on the outskirts of Rifthold. She had said his name and then there had been silence, despite the multiple times he had yelled her name through the phone. Lorcan had managed to ping the cell signal and pinpoint where the phone was located, which would be where she was as well.

He hoped.

Less than five minutes later he was in a humvee, speeding towards the location of the cell phone ping. His hands were shaking as he strapped on a bulletproof vest and checked the magazine of his gun. Fenrys was trying to talk to him but he couldn’t focus on anything except the way her voice had sound when he’d picked up the phone. Like she had been in pain. 

His hand tightened on his gun. He was going to kill whoever had taken her. Whoever had hurt her. 

Fifteen minutes later, they were pulling up to the abandoned apartment that Arobynn Hamel had lived in months ago. The local police had the whole block evacuated and blocked off, red and blue lights flashing everywhere as they stood by their cars. A swat team was standing in front of the apartment, shields at the ready, watching the house with deadly calm. Rowan hopped out of the vehicle, his colleagues right behind him, barking orders to clear the way. 

Everything went silent inside of his head as he kicked the door open, gun pointing into the apartment as he cleared the small entryway. He rounded the corner into the living room and his heart almost stopped as he took in the figure lying on the ground near the coffee table. 

Her hair had been chopped short, just brushing her shoulders, and was dyed an inky deep black. Cuts and bruises peppered every inch of her skin, and her face was pale, eyes closed. But that face was more familiar to him than his own, and he knew it was Aelin Galathynius.

Shouting for medics, he dropped to the floor beside her while Lorcan and Fenrys called the swat team to move in. He felt her pulse, weak but steady, and then began to run his hands over her body to check for any signs of broken bones or internal bleeding. When he was satisfied that there didn’t seem to be major damage, he hefted her up into his arms and carried her out of the apartment, refusing to let her go until he placed her inside the ambulance himself.

The whole 2 hours back to Orynth dragged on and on, Rowan’s focus on Aelin’s face, on her slow breathing, on the way every once in a while, her eyes flickered beneath her closed lids. She didn’t wake up despite Rowan and the medics trying to talk to her. 

The helicopter had landed directly on the roof of Orynth General Hospital, and the emergency room had immediately rolled her away, not allowing Rowan to go with her. Jaw clenched, he was escorted to a private waiting room where Aedion and his girlfriend, Lysandra were already waiting, having received the news from Rowan before they’d departed Rifthold. 

Aedion strode towards him and wrapped him in a firm hug before he could even get the words out. He patted Aelin’s cousin’s back hard, muttering, “She’s okay. She’s not awake but she’s going to be okay.” 

The three were quiet, Rowan only saying something when Fenrys and Lorcan joined them in the waiting room. 167 minutes went by before a doctor came into the room, immediately sending Rowan to his feet. 

“Miss Galathynius is going to be okay,” the doctor told him placatingly upon seeing his face. “All her wounds are superficial. Her hand seems to be healing fine from a break, and she most likely has a concussion but other than that, she is okay. We gave her a bunch of pain medication, so she is still out, but hopefully she’ll wake soon. Only one visitor at a time in the room, okay?”

With that, the doctor shook Rowan’s hand and then left the room. He turned to Aedion, about to tell him to go see her when Aedion just waved him off.

“Go see her. You’ll be the first person she’ll want to see anyways.”

Rowan nodded and headed down the hall to the room they had placed her in, pausing at the threshold. Seeing her there, hooked up to a bunch of different machines, made him anxious, fingers tapping against his leg as he came to her side, thanking the nurse as she walked out. He pulled a chair up to the bed and sat, taking Aelin’s hand gently in both of his, careful of the IV needle resting atop it.

Stroking her knuckles softly, he watched her face as she slept, looking so peaceful despite the fact that she had been missing for three months. And had been found in Arobynn Hamel’s old apartment.

Nothing made sense. There had been no trace of her, no one had seen or heard form her, every lead they’d had was a dead end. Even questioning Hamel earlier, he had no idea who could’ve taken her or where she could’ve been. But finding her in his old apartment made Rowan question how much the man really knew. He hadn’t seemed that shocked to hear Aelin had been missing. Just cold and calculated as he’d always been.

Sighing, Rowan rested his forehead against the bed. He would have to think about it all later. No doubt the FBI and CIA were going to have a field day with this case now that Aelin had returned, albeit returned not quite the same. 

Lifting his head, he ran his eyes over her again. Her hair was dirty but still dyed black, a shock against her usually golden skin that was now pale. She loved her hair a lot and now that it was a different color and cut short, he wondered if she’d done it herself or if someone had done it to her to make her unrecognizable to anyone that was looking for a golden blonde. His eyes fell on the clothes that she’d been in, folded neatly on the bedside table. They were also dirty, black and nondescript. The burner phone was on top of the pile, but there were no other possessions that had been on her. 

Movement had his head whipping back to her. Her head had turned to face him, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, her eyes moving back and forth rapidly between her eyes. A slight sound came from her parted lips, nothing he could make out.

“Aelin? Baby?” he called, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles.

A few more noises escaped her, this time distressed, and her hand tightened in his before her eyes flew open, gasping heavily as she shot up in bed, her hands immediately grabbing onto Rowan’s shirt. Her eyes were focused on him but they weren’t really seeing him, stuck somewhere inside her head.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” He tried to soothe her, hands coming up to grab hers gently. “Aelin. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Where am I? What’s happening? What-”

“Listen to my voice love. Come back to me,” he told her firmly, resting his hands on her face.

Shaking violently, her eyes slowly focused on him, her face crumpling as she finally took him. Sobs wracked her body, and Rowan called for a nurse or doctor before he pulled her head to his chest, hand on the back of her head as he shushed her while she cried. His own tears dripped into her hair as he held her close, repeatedly kissing her head as he whispered to her that he would never let anything or anyone separate them again. 

  
  



	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: sexy times lie ahead... nsfw

“Tell me the last thing you remember.”

Aelin sighed, staring blankly at the clock behind Weylan Darrow, the director of the CIA. 

“I was laying in bed, taking a nap,” she told him.

“Where?”

Her jaw clenched. That was none of his business.

“_ Where _, Miss Galathynius?”

“I was in Agent Rowan Whitethorn’s apartment. The last time I had checked the time was at 17h30.”

“And what happened next?”

“I woke up in Arobynn Hamel’s abandoned apartment in Rifthold, Adarlan.”

“You’ve been missing for three months, Agent. You have no memory of what transpired those three months?” Darrow asked, his voice sarcastic and slightly incredulous. 

Three months. So many people had told her that. Rowan. Fenrys. Aedion. Rolfe. Now Darrow. It didn’t feel like three months. Especially when she fell asleep in Rowan’s bed and woke up in fucking Rifthold. 

She couldn’t come to terms with what was happening. She’d nearly passed out after gawking at herself in the bathroom mirror at the hospital. Her once golden hair was pitch black, just brushing her shoulders. New scars marred her body, and her right hand had looked like it’d been broken, healed, and then broken again. Her pinky was slightly crooked. 

Lysandra had tried to comfort her by saying she would help Aelin get the cheap dye out of her hair. Aedion had promised that he’d stop by her apartment every day. Not that it mattered much anymore, since she was now terrified to stay anywhere by herself. Yesterday after she’d been discharged from the hospital, all Aelin had said to Rowan was that she was moving in with him and that had been the last of that conversation.

Rowan. She hadn’t known what to say to him. He wasn’t going to push her to talk, even though she always caught him looking at her like he was trying to solve one of the hardest puzzles he’d ever come across. They only made small talk, and in the 48 hours since she’d woken up again in the hospital, he’d only kissed her once. He kept a healthy distance away, as if he was scared he would hurt her or trigger something in her. Which was bullshit, and she hated that he seemed so far away from her. 

Her eyes flicked to the one-way window that she knew he, Fen, Lorcan, and Rolfe were behind and then back to Darrow.

“I have _ tried _ to remember,” she told him, already tired with today. “Every time I try, it’s like someone is stabbing me in the head. It hurts to actively try to remember.”

She wasn’t lying. It was almost like something out of a psychological thriller movie. Some kind of block in her head that if she tried to remember what she’d been doing for the past three months, it would cause her pain. She couldn’t even get flashes of anything. The past three months of her life were completely blank and it drove her insane.

Darrow’s eyes roved over her face before sighing and nodding. He scribbled something down on the notepad in front of him and then stood from the table.

“The agency has decided it would be best for you to do some cognitive therapy. You still won’t be cleared to work–” she opened her mouth to argue _ that _ but he trudged on, “and once you are cleared to work, you will be put on inactive status. You’re still an open case, Galathynius. Until we figure out what’s happened, you can’t be active.”

With that, he nodded once to her and then left the interrogation room. Groaning, she put her head in her hands, glaring a hole into the metal table. 

Therapy. Inactive status. The words made her grind her teeth. The last thing she needed was to not be able to do her job, sitting around and talking to a therapist and put on desk duty until some inexperienced agent tried and failed to solve her case. 

Tears pricked her eyes and she squeezed them shut. Not here. Not now. She could cry about the shitshow that was her life later. 

Sighing, she got up and left the room. At the same time, Fenrys stepped out of the connecting room where he had been watching. He gave her a small smile and offered his arm. She tried and failed to smile back, taking his arm as they strolled lazily down the twisting and turning halls of the FBI headquarters. The director here had already questioned her, Rolfe had questioned her, Darrow had questioned her. She was sick of questions she didn’t have the answers to. 

“So, I like the new hair,” Fenrys drawled.

She sighed. “Don’t beat around the bush, Fen. It’s not a good look for you.”

“I’m gonna be sitting in on your therapy sessions,” he told her. “The bosses want someone in there that’s familiar to you and they won’t let Whitethorn do it.”

“Why not?” she frowned.

“Because you two are dating.” They rounded the corner and came into the open hall of the welcome area.

Her eyes tracked around the open space, searching for a silver head and was slightly surprised to see it at the reception desk, his back to her as he talked to the woman sitting there. A feminine giggle peeled through the area, a sound that grated her ears.

“Are we?” she muttered to Fenrys, jaw clenching.

“Don’t be like that. She’s just a friend to him.”

She scoffed and left him in the hall, approaching her boyfriend. Hearing her footsteps, Rowan turned and smiled warmly at her, a smile that made her heart flutter. She came up to him and eyed the woman he’d been talking to. Wavy brown hair, hazy gray eyes and a perfect smile. She was dressed in a formfitting black dress that showed off an almost inappropriate amount of cleavage. Clenching her jaw, she dragged her attention back to Rowan, flashing him a brittle smile.

“Ready to go?” she asked him.

He nodded and grabbed his phone off the desk. “See you later Lyria,” he said to the brunette before grabbing Aelin’s hand and leading her out onto the street.

“Who was that?” she asked airily as they started down the street to where Rowan’s car was parked. 

“Who? Lyria? Just someone I work with,” he answered, squeezing her hand comfortably as he distractedly reached into his pocket for his keys. When she didn’t respond, he looked to her and saw the obvious annoyance on her face. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

“No,” she scoffed, but released his hand and got into the car, slamming the door shut behind her.

“You don’t have to be jealous, love,” he told her when he got in the car, starting it and peeling out of the parking space. 

She didn’t say anything, just stared out the window as he drove. She was still shocked to see that the trees were turning colors, shocked that this morning she’d had to put on a jacket. The last she remembered… it had been mid-July. It was now October, and fall was in full swing. Three months. She’d missed the rest of summer. 

When Rowan pulled into the driveway, she got out, disappearing into the house before he could even catch up to her. She kicked off her shoes and shrugged off her jacket, flicking the light on in his room. She was suddenly so tired. So tired of talking. Of trying to remember. Of feeling like she had no idea who she was anymore. Of feeling like she was going crazy. 

“Aelin.”

She didn’t turn, her arms crossed over her chest as she eyed the bed, wishing she could just sleep until her real life didn’t feel like such a nightmare. 

“Baby,” Rowan sighed, his arms coming around her, his warmth slowly seeping into her as he buried his face in her hair. 

Her lip wobbled and the tears from earlier were finally falling down her face. A sob escaped her lips and Rowan sighed again, turning her around and holding her tighter. She cried into his shirt, heaving sobs rattling her chest. 

She cried for the three months she’d lost being in a place that she couldn’t remember. She cried for whatever she had gone through that had caused more scars. She cried because seeing Rowan with Lyria had rocked her to her core, terrified at the thought that he might have moved on. The one person that was her constant. She didn’t know if she would recover if he decided to move on from her.

“Are you…” she cleared her throat, her voice thick with crying. “I– You’re not dating her, are you?”

Logically, she should’ve known he wasn’t. She’d been in his bed since returning from the hospital, he’d held her, kissed her. But her emotions, her wavering sense of identity was waring with that logic. She’d lost three months of her life. Nothing made sense anymore. 

Rowan pulled back to look into her face, the look on his one of incredulity. “Lyria? Gods, no.” She looked away from him, tears still running down her face. “Hey. Look at me, love.”

She couldn’t. She was on the brink of losing it again, and she didn’t want to look at whatever was in his eyes.

“Aelin, I’ve spent the last three months looking for you. Finding you was my priority, not entertaining other women. Lyria’s just helped me get through a tough time losing you. I’m not interested in her. I love _ you _.”

“I can’t-” she closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. “Rowan, I don’t know what’s real anymore. I don’t know how to decipher what is true and what isn’t.”

She opened her eyes when she felt his hands on her face, saw the devastation plain as day run across his handsome features. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers.

“You are real,” he breathed. “I’m real.” He traced a finger over her cheek. “Me touching you is real.” He kissed her nose. “Me kissing you is real.” 

She let out a soft sob, hands clenching his shirt. “Then why do you feel so far away? You’ve only kissed me once since I’ve been back.”

“I didn’t want to push you too far,” he told her, staring into her eyes, her soul. “I don’t know what happened to you, Aelin. What you went through. I didn’t know if you even wanted to be touched.”

Her hand snaked up his chest to grip the back of his neck, her other hand resting against his heart. “Touch me. Don’t stop until it feels real.”

His lips descended on hers, smooth and warm and wanting. He kissed her like she was holy water and he wanted to be baptized by her mouth. His tongue slipped into her mouth, lazily tangling with hers, kissing her so thoroughly that it threatened to take her breath away. 

Her hands slipped down his chest and under his shirt, pulling it up until it was off and her hands had free reign of his skin. She didn’t know where to touch first, deciding on ridding him off all his clothes before running her hands along his shoulders. Here. She’d start here. 

Her fingers traced over muscle and scars and smooth, smooth skin. Rowan watched her intently as she took her time memorizing every inch of his chest, relearning every dip and curve and ridge. When her hands slipped down to his cock, he swore and grabbed her, carrying her to bed and placing her on top of the sheets. He yanked off her jeans and underwear in on sweep, watching as she peeled off her shirt and unclipped her bra, now completely bare for him.

He hovered over her and made to kiss down her chest, down her body, but she stopped him. They could play later. She wanted nothing but skin on skin, wrapping her legs around him and bucking her hips up to bump against his. He groaned into her mouth and he pulled back, looking at her. 

“I missed you so much,” he whispered, parting her thighs farther to nestle in between them, his cock sliding against her folds.

She gasped and gripped his forearms hard, breathing back, “I missed you. More than you know.”

And she did. Despite no memory, she could feel it in her heart that she’d been away from him for three months. She could feel it in the way her hands shook as they trailed over his body, like she was about to have her first time with him all over again. 

He leaned back down to capture her mouth as he entered her, Aelin crying out as she adjusted to him. He stilled for a moment, forehead resting against hers as he panted, relishing in just how fucking good she felt. Not just being inside her, but the way her body seemed to mold to his, every inch of her in perfect sync with him, like they’d been made for each other long before they came into existence. 

“More,” she murmured, bucking her hips again. “Love me.”

And he did. All sorts of noises came out of her as he stroked into her, pace switching back and forth from slow and deep, fast and hard. Their hands tangled together above her head as their mouths never left each other’s, needing this, needing the intimacy. 

He hit that spot inside her, his name falling from her lips as her head fell back, eyes squeezed shut. His lips trailed down her throat, his hands tangling in her hair as he bit and licked across her neck. Her hands grappled at his back, fingers digging into the steel muscle of his shoulders. One leg wrapped around his waist and tightened, pulling him closer, their chests pressed together, every inch of them touching. Every touch so necessary, so essential, it was almost more important than breathing. 

“I love you,” he said against her neck, then against her lips. “I love you with my whole life.”

Tears sparked her eyes as he thrusted in time with his words, dragging her to the edge of bliss, ready for her to tumble right off. Words that she had waited months to hear again. Words that she wanted to hear for the rest of her life. 

“I love you so much,” she cried, and not a second later she was cresting over a wave, falling from an unknown height. 

She shattered around him, calling out his name as his release quickly found him as well, Rowan seated to the hilt inside her as he came undone, shaking almost violently. Her hands gripped him hard enough to leave marks, hoping it left marks so it would be proof that, indeed, what they just did was real. 

That he was real, and he was here, and he loved her.

  



	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The language I use in this is Scottish Gaelic and it's verbatim from Google translate and an online English to Scottish Gaelic dictionary so if you happen to speak it, let me know if I'm wrong haha

“What would you like to talk about today?”

Aelin huffed a laugh. “You’re the doctor, you tell me.”

She hadn’t been in Dr. Towers’ office for longer than five minutes and she was already crawling in her skin. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to some stranger about what had happened to her, no matter how lovely and inviting Yrene seemed. 

It didn’t help that Fenrys was sitting on the opposite side of the room, trying to seem inconspicuous despite his hulking body almost too big for the chair he was lounged in. He was taking notes, though she didn’t know of what since she and Yrene hadn’t even started talking yet. 

“How about you tell me the last thing you remember before you woke up in Adarlan?” Yrene asked serenely, sitting cross-legged in the chair across from her.

Aelin sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I was at Rowan’s house. I fell asleep and then woke up three months later in Arobynn Hamel’s apartment in Adarlan.”

“Tell me about your relationship with Rowan. How do you feel about it? Is your relationship with him healthy?”

Aelin’s eyes flicked to Fenrys but his eyes stayed on his paper. She clenched her jaw, silently cursing Darrow and the others for assuming she needed to be babied in her therapy sessions.

“Of course it’s healthy. I love him. He loves me.”

_ Maybe _, a nasty voice inside her head hissed. After her breakdown yesterday, they hadn’t talked about Lyria again. She had tried to push any lingering feelings away about the matter, but it seemed she still couldn’t let it go. 

“So there would be no reason to run away to escape your relationship?”

“No,” she said, affronted. “Even if that was the case, I wouldn’t run away. I probably would’ve just shot him in the balls.”

A snort that quickly morphed to a cough erupted from Fenrys but he just waved her away when she turned to glare at him. She looked back to Yrene and sighed for what seemed like the millionth time. 

“Listen, I wouldn’t have willingly run away. My life was fine. We were about to book Hamel and send him to jail. I was back in Terrasen with my friends and family. I was with Rowan. Why would I want to run away from that?”

Yrene shrugged. “It was just a thought to entertain. Now tell me more about what you feel when you try to remember what happened during those three months.”

“It’s like…” Aelin trailed off for a second, trying to gather her thoughts. “It’s like when I try to remember, someone or something doesn’t want me to. As soon as I even think about trying to remember, a headache starts to form. Actively trying to remember…” she shook her head. “It feels like someone is trying to break my brain in two. The pain is awful. Some kind of psychological block, I’d assume. Though I didn’t know it was an actual thing.”

“They are actual things,” Yrene agreed, nodding. “Whether they’re self-imposed or put there by someone else…” She wrote something down in her notes before frowning slightly and then looking back up to Aelin. “For your next session, I want to try something different. Psychological blocks are tricky things, and I want to see if hypnosis will work to counteract it.”

Aelin fought the urge to scoff. Great, so instead of talking about her feelings she was signing up to be a circus act. She just nodded. She very well couldn’t refuse to be subjected to Yrene’s therapy when it was mandated by her superiors. 

They wrapped up their session and Aelin all but ran out of the room, navigating the halls of headquarters absentmindedly as she stayed wrapped up in her head.

She had to give Yrene credit. At least she was going to help Aelin in any way she could. Maybe hypnosis would work. Maybe it wouldn’t. Either way, she wasn’t any closer to finding out what had happened to her. 

But maybe there was someone who would have the answers. Someone who had been intrinsically tied to her life despite the wreckage he had brought to it.

“Aelin.”

She slowed as she came to the front doors to headquarters, hand on the door to push her way out but Fenrys had stopped her.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

She didn’t turn to him as she stared out the window of the door. “Tell Rowan I’ll meet him at home. I have a phone call to make.”

-

Hair tucked under a baseball cap and dressed in one of Rowan’s hoodies, Aelin cleared her way through the security checkpoint of Orynth State Penitentiary. She neared the booths that allowed people to talk to inmates here, selecting one at the end of the row, away from the couple of people that were already talking to convicts. She leaned forward on the counter so the visors blocked her from anyone’s vision. The last thing she needed was to have someone spot her and report her to the FBI or CIA. But she needed answers. Desperately.

Her attention flickered to the glass pane in front of her, watching with a detached gaze as a man in orange sat on the other side of it, wrists bound by cuffs. He was clean shaven and his hair was shorter than when she had seen him last. The day she’d disappeared. She reached for the phone and placed it to her ear, watched as he did the same. 

“_ Tha orains na dath uamhasach ort _ ,” she told him. _ Orange is a horrible color on you. _

Arobynn Hamel smiled at her languidly from the other side of the glass. “I’ve grown quite fond of it, actually,” he said in the Old Language. “What can I do for you, Miss Galathynius?”

She continued to speak Terrasen’s native tongue, just in case anyone overheard her conversation. “I know you talked to Rowan. And I know you told him you didn’t know anything. But we both know that’s a lie, Hamel. You know a lot more than you let on. You always have.”

He leaned back and studied her with a curious expression. “I must admit, Miss Galathynius, your boyfriend alerting me that you had gone missing was as much of a surprise to me as anyone else. I don’t pretend to hide that I know more than I let on, but on this particular subject I really don’t know much.”

“_ Breugaire _,” she purred. 

“A liar I might be,” he smirked, the Old Language rolling off his tongue, “but I am not lying about this.”

She glared at him before realizing that he wasn’t going to tell her anything worthwhile. It was a fool’s errand to come here and think he would offer her something that would help her figure out what had happened to her. 

“If I find out that you’re lying, Arobynn…” her threat was empty. He was already in jail; there was nothing more she could do besides killing him and landing herself in prison.

“Yes, yes, you’ll make my life miserable, you’ll kill me,” he huffed in annoyance. “I’ve heard it all before, _ gaolag _.”

She scowled at him and was about to hang up the phone when he spoke.

“One more thing, Miss Galathynius.”

She rose a brow, indicating him to go on. 

He leaned forward like he had a secret to whisper in her ear despite the glass separating him. His gray eyes flashed with something she couldn’t quite place. 

“If you’re having trouble remembering what happened to you, as I suspect that’s the only reason you would come talk to me… some things are better left unknown. Don’t dig up what’s already buried.”

Nonsense. Utter nonsense, trying to confuse her. She frowned and hung up the phone, pulling her hood over her hat as she quickly left the prison, Arobynn’s words following her out the door and the whole drive home. 

She knew she was in trouble when she pulled into the driveway and saw Rowan was already home. She had been hoping to beat him home so she would have the upper hand, but it was all for not now. She sighed and climbed up the steps of the porch, slipping inside and throwing her stuff onto the couch.

“Where were you?”

She didn’t answer him as she grabbed a blanket off the couch and travelled through the house to the backyard, opening the sliding glass door and stepping into the crisp fall breeze. She looked out into the yard, watching some birds flit around, examining the steadily dying grass. She heard Rowan come out with her, but she didn’t say anything as she continued to gaze around the backyard. 

“Aelin.”

She sighed, trying to come up with something to tell him. He would go ballistic if he knew she’d been to see Arobynn, but she couldn’t tell him she’d gone to see Aedion because no doubt Rowan had already called him. Lysandra wasn’t an option.

“I went to my parents’ graves,” she blurted, hoping her parents wouldn’t curse her for using them to lie to tell her boyfriend. “I just… I wanted to talk to them. Even though they’re not there. Maybe see if I could somehow talk through something. Didn’t work though.”

She heard him sigh and then his arms were wrapping around her, his body warming her up. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, resting his chin there. 

She worried her lip for a moment before turning in his arm, looking up into his handsome face. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

He rose a brow. “Why would I think that?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed, hands twisting into his shirt. “I feel crazy. Yrene, my therapist, looks at me like I’m crazy. Fenrys looks at me like I’m five seconds away from losing it. I just…” she flexed her hands and then gripped his shirt again. “What if I did just run away? Yrene said it could be a possibility.”

Rowan traced a finger over her brow and down her cheek before replying. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I also don’t think you ran away. You don’t run away, it’s not who you are. I think,” he continued, cupping her face in his hands, “that you have been through something really traumatic, and whatever happened, your mind doesn’t want to remember. Don’t try to force it, Aelin. Your memory will come back.”

She frowned, about to tell him she thought he was wrong, but he just leaned down to kiss her pout away, and she instantly lost herself in him, letting him pull her inside and take her mind off today. 

-

Rowan woke up with a disoriented start, blinking as his eyes focused on the alarm clock beside his bed. 4:13 a.m. Sighing, he rolled over and reached for the body sleeping next to him but his search came up empty. Heart stopping for a second, his hand patted her side again. It wasn’t even warm. 

Swearing, his heart racing, he jumped out of bed and flicked the light on. Aelin wasn’t in bed. He was immediately storming down the hall, about to call out her name when he saw her on the couch, sleeping. He sighed in relief, pressing a hand to his heart. 

But then he noticed what she was wearing. She wasn’t wearing the nightgown she’d gone to bed in, the one that had ended up on the floor hours ago. It didn’t seem like she had just woken up and decided to go back to sleep in the living room. No, she was dressed as if she had been out. She was in jeans, a dark sweatshirt, her tennis shoes still on her feet. She was splayed over the couch, her hair messy, a streak of dirt across her cheek. 

Where the fuck had she gone?

He knelt down beside her and gently shook her awake, murmuring her name. She moved slightly, let out a sigh and murmured something in a language that he was unfamiliar with. He froze. He wasn’t aware that Aelin spoke anything besides the Old Language. But with her extensive CIA background, he was sure she knew other languages. But when she murmured again, the language almost guttural, goosebumps erupted along his flesh. What the hell was she saying?

He shook her again, this time harder. She startled awake, confusion on her face before her eyes settled on Rowan and then she sleepily smiled, hand reaching out to rest against his cheek. Nothing seemed out of place to him, every inch of her perfect despite the dirt on her face. 

“Aelin, love, look at me,” he asked her, pulling her up into a sitting position. 

“What?” she frowned, seemingly annoyed that he had woken her up. 

“What were you just saying now? In your sleep?” he questioned.

“I don’t know, Rowan,” she huffed, rubbing her eyes. “Is this what you woke me up about? What, was I speaking a different language?”

“Yes.”

“I know all of the languages on the continent, it was required for my training. I’m fluent so sometimes I dream in them,” she sighed, almost falling back asleep before Rowan shook her again. Her eyes flared open and she glared at him but he didn’t care. He had to know what was happening to her.

“Where did you go?” he demanded, voice stern.

“What are you talking about? I’ve been here on the couch the whole time,” she told him, her eyebrows formed in a deep V of confusion.

“Aelin, you went to bed with me. In the bedroom. In a nightgown.” He gestured to her new clothes. “You’re dressed in a completely different outfit. Your shoes are on.”

She glanced down at herself and swore softly. “What the fuck.”

He didn’t know what to say or do. Either she was lying or she absolutely had no idea what was going on. From the stunned look on her face, he assumed the latter. 

“Where did you go, love?” he asked again, gentler this time. 

She stared at her clothes for a moment longer before looking back up to him, fear flashing through her eyes, panic painted across her face. “I don’t know.”


	15. Chapter 15

“Are you ready for our session today?”

Aelin sighed. “Do I have any choice but to be ready?”

“Therapy is about how  _ you _ feel,” Yrene told her, giving her a comforting smile. “If you’re not ready, we don’t have to do this.”

Her eyes flicked to Fenrys, who smiled at her and gave her a thumbs up. She sighed once more and then turned back to Yrene, nodding. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Yrene walked her through a series of steps, closing her eyes, regulating her breathing and relaxing her muscles. The woman’s soothing voice guided her in a deep and dark meditative state, her mind beginning to go blank. 

“You’re just floating in the dark, your body relaxed and at ease.” The voice sounded far away but everywhere around her at the same time. “As you look around, you start to see a light. You want to follow the light.”

As if on command, a distant light popped up in the distance. Aelin followed it, curious. 

“You’re coming to an open doorway. Step through it, Aelin. Don’t be scared, step through it and into Rowan’s bedroom the day you disappeared.”

She did as told, stepping through the doorway that was blindingly illuminated. As her eyes adjusted, she found herself in Rowan’s bedroom. She frowned, observing her surroundings.

“Tell me what you were doing after Rowan left for work. What did you see? What did you hear?”

“I— I was laying in bed, texting Aedion,” Aelin started, her voice sounding distant and muffled. “He and Lysandra wanted to come over for dinner.”

“What happened after that?”

“I told him when to come over and was going to take a nap. After Arobynn’s confession… I was grieving all over again. I was tired. So tired,” she explained with a sigh.

She sat on the bed, rubbing her forehead. “I couldn’t even sleep. An hour later, I heard the door open. I called out Rowan’s name—”

She stood up abruptly, staring back into the doorway that was now dark, so dark she couldn’t make out anything beyond it.

“They came in so fast. I couldn’t— they had a full face mask on. I couldn’t see if they were a man or woman.”  She started to shake, tears stinging her eyes. “I tried to fight them off. I couldn’t. They bested me. No one has bested me, not even Rowan.”

Suddenly it was as if thunder clapped inside her head. Voices began speaking, some whispering, some yelling, some laughing, some so cold and hateful that it raised the hair on the back of her neck. Voices speaking over each other that she couldn’t even make out what they were saying.

She was in the dark, she could see nothing but absolute blackness. 

A face flashed before her eyes, golden eyes and moon white hair. A woman. Before she could even try to grasp for recognition it was gone.

Then she was suddenly looking at a barren landscape, a tundra-like landscape that was completely unfamiliar, there was no way she could place where she was—

“ _ Slabyy. Zhalkiy. Vstavay. Vstavay i srazhaysya. Trus. _ ”

The voice was foreign to her, speaking Crochan. A language she knew fluently, but whatever had just been said, she couldn’t translate it in her head. She didn’t know what they were saying, she couldn’t  _ understand _ —

Pain shot through her right hand and up her arm, causing her to cry out. The sound of small bones cracking infiltrated her ears. She began sobbing in earnest.

The sobbing didn’t stop as her mom’s face flashed before her, looking down at her with a proud smile on her face. A face she hadn’t seen in years.

“I’m proud of you Fireheart.”

Her father’s voice, the words he’d told her at dinner just days before they’d been killed.

Her parent’s faces swirled before her, loving expressions morphing into angry, dark faces, hatred on their faces, disgust curling their lips.

Panic seized her heart as the voices began again, even more overwhelming than before. She couldn’t take it anymore, she had to leave. She had to get out, get out GET OUT—

“ _ Prosnut'sya _ .”

_ Wake up _ ,  _ wake up _ ,  _ wake up _ , she told herself, pleading with her mind to break whatever hold was over her.

“AELIN WAKE UP.”

As if she just been shot out of a catapult, she was suddenly back in Yrene’s office, gasping for breath, tears blurring her vision. She could feel her hands on a strong set of arms, her nails digging into their skin. Fenrys. Fenrys was here.

“Come on, princess. I know I’m not Whitethorn, but listen to my voice,” came his rumbling tone, his hands on her shoulders.

Her eyes slowly focused on him, his worried face hovering above her as he gripped her. He let out a breath of relief as she made eye contact with him, and gently let her go.

“What the hell happened?” she asked, her voice sounding like it had been rubbed raw over sandpaper. 

Yrene ran a hand through her curls, letting out a shaky breath as she sank into the chair across from Aelin.

“I couldn’t get you to wake up from the hypnosis,” Yrene explained. “Wherever you were, you were so deep in your mind I couldn’t get you out. I wasn’t… I’ve never dealt with a patient where I wasn’t able to bring them back.”

Unsure of what to say, she thanked Yrene and quickly left the office, not waiting for Fenrys to catch up to her.

Aelin walked down the hall, her mind hazy from what had just happened in Yrene’s office. She wasn’t about to be a believer in hypnotism, but… whatever had happened, it had pulled out memories. And they weren’t the good kind. 

She was jostled out of her head when a shoulder smacked hers. She stumbled off to the side, glaring at whoever had bumped into her, her mouth open to no doubt say something nasty. 

The man in front of her was tall and athletically built, brown hair and brown eyes. Handsome, but completely ordinary. 

If not for the fact that there was something about him that seemed familiar. 

Before she could spit out an insult, he opened his mouth. 

“Wake,” he said.

Aelin barely registered that he said the word in a different language. She blinked in surprise, her body going rigid. She muttered something under her breath, not very ladylike, and hurried down the hall. As she came into the atrium of headquarters, she looked back but the strange man was nowhere to be found. 

Brows furrowed, she pushed him out of her mind as she glanced around the open area. Rowan said he’d be here when she got out of her session, but she didn’t see him. She did, however, see the brunette at the front desk who kept flirting with Rowan despite the fact that Aelin had been right there next to him. 

Suddenly angry, she marched over to the receptionist desk. Lyria looked up as Aelin approached, that stupid, beaming smile on her face. 

“Can I help you?” the woman asked nicely. 

“Stop flirting with my boyfriend in front of me,” Aelin hissed, her temper rising the longer she looked into Lyria’s hazel gray eyes. 

Her immaculate eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry?”

“Did I stutter? Leave Rowan alone.”

“I…” Lyria stood slowly. “I’m sorry Miss Galathynius, but I don’t speak Crochan.” 

What the hell was she going on about? Aelin wasn’t speaking the language from The Wastes. 

“What are you talking about? Are you stupid?” Aelin yelled at her. 

Lyria’s face went cold, her eyes narrowing. “I tried telling Rowan that you came back crazy. Maybe this time he’ll believe me.”

So fast that Aelin didn’t even register herself doing it, she rounded the desk and had the petite brunette slammed against the wall, a hand around her throat. Her mind went blank, almost as if she was someone else watching through her eyes as her hand tightened around Lyria’s neck, watching the woman’s face go red as she gasped like a fish. 

Another set of hands came into her vision, grabbing at her arms to pull her off of the woman. She could distantly hear a male voice speaking to her, but she couldn’t focus on anything except the loud voice in her head telling her to wake, to wake up, to finish off the threat. 

Green eyes infiltrated her vision, a concerned look on the man’s face as he gripped hers. He was saying something, his mouth moving fast, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying, if he was even saying anything comprehensible. 

“Aelin, love, come back to me.”

Rowan. 

The name clanged through her, pulling her out of whatever trance she’d slipped into. It clenched her heart, ran through her head, breaking through the fog. 

“Rowan,” she whimpered.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re fine,” he murmured to her before he let her go and turned back to the woman that was coughing on the floor. 

Aelin wrapped her arms around herself as her eyes went wide taking in what had happened. Lyria was sitting on the floor with Rowan and Fenrys crouched in front of her, her hand on her chest, red finger imprints already showing up on her neck. Imprints from Aelin’s fingers. 

What the hell had she done? It was like she’d gone crazy, just like Lyria had accused her of. When Rowan’s hand touched Lyria’s cheek, Aelin clenched her fists and booked it for the doors, immediately stepping out into the downpour of rain. 

She was instantly soaked, her still black hair plastering itself to her face as she tilted her face up to the sky, taking deep breaths as she stood there in the storm. Blinking away the water getting into her eyes, she began walking down the street, stuck inside her head.

She was sure after this Darrow was going to lock her up in a psych ward. She had no recollection of what she’d done. It was like the moment she’d seen Lyria, everything inside her head had gone blank, and she’d felt the overwhelming need to eliminate anything and anyone she deemed a threat. 

And then Rowan had been in front of her, bringing her back. Had pretty much yanked her out of… whatever kind of trance she’d been in. 

She stopped abruptly on the sidewalk, trying in vain to recall the past hour. She’d left Yrene’s office, trying to find Rowan—

It was like a rubber band snapped inside her head. Her head immediately pulsed in pain, and she cursed, pressing a hand to her forehead. She had tried to find Rowan and then—

Nothing. She couldn’t recall anything between when she’d left Yrene’s office and when Rowan had pulled her out of her own head. 

“What the fuck is happening me,” she whispered to herself, startling when a car pulled up next to her and honked. 

“Aelin, get in the damn car,” Rowan yelled at her over the sound of pounding rain when he rolled the window down. 

She ignored him, continuing to walk down the street. He put the car in park and got out, grabbing her before she could make it more than a few feet. Both of them now soaked, he gripped both of her arms and shook her once. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

“Let go of me, Rowan,” she growled, trying to break free of his grip. 

“Get in the fucking car, Aelin,” he shot back, dragging her towards the car. 

She wrenched herself from his hands and got in the car, turning to face the window, refusing to acknowledge him as he set off towards his apartment. She shook the whole ride home despite Rowan turning the heat on. 

The rain had stopped by the time they got home, Rowan helping her out of the car.

“I’m fine,” she hissed, side-stepping his reach as she booked it into the house. 

“Aelin, what is going on?” Rowan demanded, shutting the door behind them. “Talk to me.”

“I’m going crazy,” she whispered, pressing a hand to her forehead, her back to him.

“Love, look at me.”

She spun around, throwing her arms out. “I’m going fucking crazy, Rowan.” 

“No you’re not—”

“Rowan, stop. I’m done here.” The words were out before she even thought about them.

“What do you mean, you’re done here?” he asked, voice rising with incredulity. 

“I am literally going insane.” She let out a lifeless laugh. “I can’t control myself. I have no idea what happened to me. Yrene’s hypnosis didn’t really work. I can’t remember anything, I don’t know what’s real and what’s not, I woke up in the gods damn middle of the night having been somewhere and  _ I. Can’t. Remember it _ . I’m being driven crazy. You’re driving me crazy.”

He took a step back, hurt flickering across his face. “You don’t mean that.”

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut to stop the tears threatening to fall. “I’m leaving. I’m going to go stay with Aedion. I can’t—”

“Yeah, not gonna happen love,” Rowan cut her off, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. 

She began to sob into his chest, her mind a swirling mess as she rewet Rowan’s mostly dried shirt. 

“I love you,” he murmured into her hair after she had quieted down.

“Go tell that to your new girlfriend Lyria,” she muttered, but the response was half-hearted.

“I love  _ you _ .”

She pulled back to look at his face, frowning slightly. “Even though I'm crazy?”

“You're not crazy,” he huffed, giving her a sardonic smile.

“Even though I'm broken?” she pushed.

“You're not broken either love,” he assured, stroking his fingers down her face.

“I don't deserve you,” she sighed, looking down at where her hands rested against his chest.

Rowan cupped her face in his hands, bringing her gaze back up to his. She looked into those green eyes of his, saw the love and admiration in them and almost started crying again.

“We deserve each other,” he told her, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth. “After everything we’ve been through, the fact that we’re still here, standing here, holding each other… I’m not saying I’m a believer of fate, but I think I was always meant to be here. With you.”

She pouted and then bit her lip to stop from crying. “When did you learn to make such pretty speeches?”

He laughed and then captured her lips with his, and she hoped she’d hear his laugh and feel his touch for the rest of her life.

  
  



	16. Chapter 16

_ Aelin was standing in the middle of a barren field, the grass dusted white with frost. Despite her breath coming out in a cloud in front of her, she didn’t feel cold. She frowned, looking down to see herself in nothing but jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. She should’ve been freezing in this weather.  _

_ As her eyes tracked around the field, she felt something tugging at her mind, as if trying to get her attention. Whispers started and she spun around, but no one was there.  _

_ Suddenly a voice sounded right behind her.  _ What do you see?

_ The voice was touting a guttural accent, the words not the common tongue but a language she knew nonetheless. She turned again, but still, there was no one. Her breath started to come out quicker as her anxiety spiked.  _

What do you see? _ The voice came again. _

_ Nothing. She saw nothing but an empty field, there was no one except her— _

Potential.

_ The word fell from her lips despite her not actively talking. Her voice was distorted, as if underwater. _

Good. 

_ She was frozen in spot, her mind half aware this was a dream, yet she felt as if it was so real.  _

Do you have what it takes? 

_ The voice was so familiar, so familiar yet as she tried to search for a name to attach to the voice, it slipped from her mind every time. Frustrated, she turned back to face the barren field.  _

I do _ . Her own voice again.  _

Then kill them.

_ She blinked and two people were in front of her, black hoods concealing their identity as they rested on their knees. Slowly, her hands reached out, trembling like leaves as they gripped the hoods and yanked them off.  _

_ A scream tore through her throat as she looked at the faces of her parents, her dead parents, looking how they did those years ago in the morgue. The only difference was that their eyes were open and their blood was everywhere. Soaking her mom’s shirt, running down the side of her dad’s head. Their blood. As she reached for them, almost in a trance, she saw her hands were covered like she’d dipped them in crimson paint. But it wasn’t paint. Her stomach turned and she felt bile rise as she realized whose blood it was that was on her hands.  _

_ She looked back to her parents but they were gone. In their place were their headstones, side by side, just how they were at the cemetery. Aelin fell to her knees, sobbing, unable to comprehend what was happening as she began to tear at the frozen earth. Grass and dirt flew and all of a sudden she was standing in their plot, except it was empty. Their caskets weren’t there, they weren’t buried here but it wasn’t right, not right not right  _ notright _ because she’d seen the pallbearers lower the caskets into the grave.  _

_ She startled at dirt began to fall around her, covering her, and she couldn’t even look up as she was being buried alive— _

Someone was shaking her, their fingers digging into her upper arms as she was catapulted out of whatever memory had taken over her, gasping as her eyes opened to a familiar living room. Her and Rowan’s living room. 

“Aelin.”

Her eyes took a few moments to focus clearly on Rowan’s concerned face, his brows furrowed as he stared at her. She tried to sort through what she’d just dreamt but already it was fading away. She shook it off and rubbed her eyes.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

“Where did you go?”

Frowning, she looked down at herself and almost groaned. She was dressed in jeans and a hoodie again, her shoes still on her feet. She  _ knew _ she had gone to bed with nothing on because Rowan had thoroughly ravished her just hours before.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” she whispered, sitting up and pulling of her shoes hurriedly, throwing them at the front door in frustration. “I don’t fucking know.”

Rowan sighed and sat next to her, raking a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand it. How do you leave without me knowing? I should be able to notice when you’re gone.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold. “I don’t know. It’s like… I’m sleep walking. But how can I not remember? I’m leaving the house for gods’ sakes.”

He pulled her to him and she rested her head against his chest, letting the beat of his heart soothe her. Gods, she was going crazy. Certifiably insane. 

“Maybe I should set up a camera or something. Just to see if you’re actually leaving. Maybe you’re just putting clothes on and coming out to the living room and falling asleep.”

His tone wasn’t reassuring but she saw no other option. “I have to know what’s going on.”

Over the next week, a camera was recording in their bedroom, in the living room, and right outside aimed at the driveway. Every single night, there was nothing. Aelin didn’t get out of bed at all, sleeping through the night right next to Rowan. 

It was maddening. They had no proof besides her waking up on the couch that she had been sleepwalking. Not until the next night after Rowan had taken down the cameras.

Rowan woke up with a start, feeling slightly disoriented as he squinted at the clock. Two in the morning. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, his other hand reaching out to touch the figure sleeping next to him.

His hand came up empty.

He shot up out of bed, heart racing as he flicked the lights on. Sure enough, Aelin wasn’t in bed, her side of the bed disturbed as if she’d rolled out of bed and left not too long ago. He swore, running out into the living room. Nothing. She wasn’t there either. 

He looked for the shoes that she had been wearing the past two times she’d been found in the living room. They were there, sitting by the door. None of her shoes were gone. 

Had she gone barefoot? He strode back for the room, looking for the nightgown she’d gone to sleep in, a flimsy lavender-colored thing. It was nowhere to be found. His heart dropped. 

It was the end of October, and Terrasen was getting bitterly cold at night. It had to be only just above freezing outside. If Aelin had left, barefoot  _ and _ in a nightgown, she could have been exposed to hypothermia by now.

Swearing up a storm, he got dressed as he began dialing numbers, barking orders to people he’d woken up in the middle of the night. He also called 911 and only minutes later, there was a search party formed on the front lawn, Aedion, Fenrys, Lorcan, Rolfe, Darrow, and a small handful of other FBI and CIA investigators. The police department had brought the K9 unit and they started out their search, beginning at places Aelin would frequent or think to go to.

Dawn was beginning to break over the horizon as the search party came together again, grasping at straws to figure out where she might have gone. Rowan yanked a hand through his hair, frustrated and worried. 

“I don’t know where else she could have gone,” he growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t even know what would have her waking up in the middle of the night and leaving.”

He looked to Aedion, about to ask him if he had talked to his cousin lately when it hit him. Family. She might have gone to see family.

“Her parents,” he blurted out.

Aedion’s eyes widened, nodding. “Their graves. She could’ve gone there.”

Hopping back into a sedan with Aedion getting in right after him, they sped off towards the cemetery with the rest of the search party behind them. Rowan had hardly put the car into park before sprinting past the entrance into the sprawling sites. He wasn’t even sure where to go when he saw a blonde head off in the near distance. Heart stuttering and relief flooding through him so quick he almost fell to his knees, he ran for her. 

“Aelin!” he shouted, coming up to her.

He grabbed her but she didn’t turn to face him, staring blankly at nothing in particular. She was cold to the touch, her nose bright red, her lips pale. Aedion reached them with a blanket at Rowan pulled it around her, bringing her close.

“Aelin?” His voice was questioning now as he tried to meet her eyes. There was nothing in them, as if she was just a shell of herself. 

He looked down at her parents’ markers, surprised to see that gouges had been taken out of the half frozen ground. Frowning, he took Aelin’s hands to see them ripped up and bloody, dirty and grass embedded in her fingernails. 

“Aelin,” he said again, shaking her gently. “Love, look at me. Come back to me.”

The others had reached them by now but he waved them off, silently telling them to stand back. He tipped her chin up and tried to get some response out of her but there was nothing. 

“ _ Aelin _ .”

She blinked. And blinked again. She whispered something, in that same guttural language that he didn’t know. He shook her, this time a bit more forcefully. “Come on baby. Come back to me.”

Her eyes suddenly focused on him and then flared in recognition. She frowned. 

“Rowan… what…”

He almost sobbed in relief, grabbing her up in his arms. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“What… what’s going on? Why are we here?” she asked, her voice sounding frail as she buried her head into his chest. 

He pulled back, meeting her confused gaze. His brows furrowed.

“Aelin, we found you here.”

  
  



	17. Chapter 17

Aelin was in a blue medical robe made out of cheap fabric that somehow felt suffocating. 

After Rowan had found her, they’d taken her to the hospital to make sure she didn’t have hypothermia or frostbite, and to clean up her hands from where she’d apparently dug at the ground.

Not that she remembered any of it. And that’s what bothered her the most. She remembered falling asleep tucked against Rowan’s warm body, and the next thing she knew she was shivering and looking into his eyes as they stood at her parents’ graves. 

Now she was sitting on a hospital bed, her legs dangling over the side as she stared at her hands in her lap. Aedion, Lysandra, Rowan, Darrow, and Yrene were in the room with her; Darrow and Yrene were talking in harsh whispers with the doctor by the door, and judging by the looks on their faces, the three were not in agreement with whatever they were talking about.

Aedion and Lysandra were in the chairs by the window and Rowan was in the chair right next to her, his hand on her thigh, fingers stroking soft patterns on her skin. She couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to look at him. All she would see on his face were questions she couldn’t answer. 

“Alright, Aelin.” She looked up into the doctor’s kind face. “You’re cleared to go. All your scans came back fine, and you have no hypothermia or frostbite. Keep your hands cleaned and bandaged and they’ll be good to go in a few days.”

She just nodded and waited until he left before turning her eyes to Darrow and Yrene. They both came to stand in front of her; Darrow looked like he was fed up with her already and Yrene had a pleasant expression on her face. 

“I should have you removed as an agent, Galathynius,” Darrow growled and Yrene cut him a sharp glance. He sighed. “But, Dr. Towers here thinks that you should actually be put back on active duty.”

Aelin’s brows shot up, turning her gaze to Yrene. “What?”

Her golden brown curls trembled slightly as she nodded. “I don’t think being inactive is doing you any good, Aelin. With your mindset and personality, you’re the type of person that wants to dive into things and get them solved. I personally think that allowing you back on duty might help figure out what happened to you three months ago. To actively be back in the environment you were in prior to going missing just may be the thing to trigger whatever memories are locked up in your head. It’s up to you, of course.”

For the first time in what seemed like a long time, hope bloomed warmly in her chest. Her eyes shifted to Rowan and he gave her a slight nod and an encouraging smile, squeezing her thigh. 

She looked back to Darrow and Yrene and nodded. “Okay. I’d like that.”

Darrow’s huff of breath sounded long-suffering. “Fine. You’re reinstated. But before you go out guns blazing, I want you to take two weeks to go through all your basic training. Agent Moonbeam and Agent Whitethorn have offered to help you out with it. After two weeks, if they think you’re good to go, then you can be involved on your case.”

With that, he left and Yrene followed suit, giving her a warm smile and quick squeeze to her shoulder. Aedion and Lysandra got up from their chairs and joined Aelin and Rowan. 

“I’m sorry I scared you guys,” Aelin muttered, looking back down at her hands. 

Fingers were under her chin and then she was looking up into Aedion’s eyes, twin to her own. “There’s nothing to apologize for. We’re just glad that you’re safe. And we’re here to help in whatever way we can.”

She blinked back tears and nodded, grabbing his hand in her own and gripping it tightly before letting go. Lysandra smiled at her and winked before putting her hands on Aelin’s shoulders, sighing dramatically. 

“I wish you would let me have some fun,” Lys said in a tone filled with fake indignation. But then her eyes softened and landed on the top of Aelin’s head. “I know it’s like, six in the morning but how about I come over and help you fix the atrocity that is your hair?”

Aelin’s hair was still dyed black. She laughed and nodded.

“Good. Let’s get out of here then.”

Rowan helped Aelin up and after signing the discharge papers, they were on the way back to Rowan’s house. The ride was dead silent, and Aelin opened her mouth many times to say something, to say anything, but nothing ever came out. 

He helped her out of the car, and she let him despite the fact that she was fine. Physically, at least. He held her hand as he led her inside, only letting go when they found themselves in the bathroom. Their eyes connected in the mirror and it looked like he was about to say something when the doorbell rang. He gave her a small smile and then planted a kiss to her forehead before disappearing, Lysandra replacing his presence moments later. 

Lys started emptying out the bag she’d brought, professional hair products littering the bathroom sink as she chatted away and began the slow process of stripping the black from Aelin’s hair. Aelin was content to listen to her best friend catch her up on everything going on, only putting in her input when she felt like it. 

Aelin’s mind was blissfully blank as Lysandra worked, and she was thankful for it. There would be a lot to think about later, but for now she just wanted the peace of having her hair done while her friend’s lovely voice drowned out everything else. 

It was noon before her hair was anywhere close to the blonde it had been; it wasn’t the golden blonde of her virgin hair, but Lysandra was a goddess for even being able to get it back to some version of blonde. She watched herself in the mirror as Lysandra finished blow-drying, eyes stinging as one part of her life fell back into normalcy. Lys smiled at her gently through the mirror, giving her shoulders a warm squeeze before leaving. Aelin let her friend out and made her way back to the bedroom where Rowan had been napping on and off the whole time. 

He was awake now, his eyes on the TV even though the volume was low. His eyes flicked to her when she came through the doorway and he sat up as she crawled into bed, crossing her legs as she faced him. 

“How does it look?” she asked quietly, tangling her fingers in her lap, suddenly nervous to be alone with her boyfriend. 

He gave her a soft smile, pushing a chunk of it out of her face. “It looks great, love.”

The look on his face was her undoing and tears began to streak down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I don’t know what’s happening to me, and I’m so—”

He immediately pulled her into his lap, holding her tight and shushing her as she cried. When she eventually quieted down, he laid back with her sprawled out on his chest. He took her face in his hands and wiped away her tears.

“Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out together,” he murmured to her, placing a gentle kiss to her mouth. “I’m with you always.”

She fought back more tears as he kept kissing her, his hands slipping under her shirt and up her back. She hooked a leg around him and flipped them so he was resting his weight against her, the sheer solidness of him giving her a primal sense of comfort. 

They wrestled each other out of their clothes and then they were skin on skin on skin, her fingers slipping over Rowan’s back, pressing and stroking every dip and curve of his body as he slid inside her, their bodies molding together so perfectly they must’ve been created just for each other. 

She lost herself in him, praying to whatever gods up there that Rowan would be the one thing that remained constant in her life. 

-

Aelin found herself in one of the CIA’s many boardrooms on Monday morning, slouched in a chair as Rowan came in with Fenrys and even godsdamned Lorcan. Rowan sat next to her, giving her thigh a quick squeeze as Fenrys winked at her and Lorcan started up the projector and pulled out a laptop. 

On the screen, a slide show started up with details about her case. Her eyes roved over them, stuff she already knew, things she’d already told investigators. 

“How is this supposed to help me?” she drawled, eyes landing on Lorcan.

“It’s not,” he muttered, flipping through a notepad. “It’s supposed to help us as you tell us what kinds of dreams you’ve been having that make you sleep walk to a fucking cemetery.”

She glared daggers at Fenrys, who just held up his hands and shrugged his shoulders. She sighed and absentmindedly grabbed Rowan’s hand under the table, the feel of his fingers intertwined with hers calming her down. 

“First off, I don’t know if these dreams are what’s causing it. I only remember one dream,” she explained. 

“But?” Lorcan pushed, clicking a pen.

She sighed again. “But this time was different.”

And then she launched into an explanation of the dream she’d had, the same one she remembered before they’d tried to videotape her leaving the house. It had played in the exact same way, with her standing in the middle of a barren field. It was cold, but she couldn’t feel that it was. She only knew because of the frost on the ground and her breath coming out in clouds. Then she recalled the whispers, the words that she exchanged back and forth with the disembodied voice.

Her voice became shaky as she got to the part where she’d revealed her parents kneeling in front of her, looking completely alive despite the fact that they still carried the wounds that caused their deaths. A gunshot to her father’s head. Her mother’s neck sliced open. And their blood was on her hands as she stared at them in that abandoned field. And then they had disappeared and she was digging at the earth and then she found herselves in her parents grave plot, dirt cascading around her—

She stopped abruptly as her head tried to separate fiction from reality. She shook it a few times and Rowan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“And then I woke up on the couch. And when I had that dream again, I woke up with Rowan shaking me, at the cemetery,” she finished, slightly breathless. 

Lorcan was busy writing everything down, but Fenrys was looking at her funny, as she was a complex puzzle he couldn’t figure out. She stuck her tongue out at him and he just gave a huff of laughter before turning back to Lorcan as he finished up. 

“Based off your dream and what you’ve given in testimony, the landscape you describe could be in the Wastes,” Lorcan told her. 

She frowned. “But I was found in Adarlan.”

Lorcan shrugged. “It’s just a theory. You  _ were _ missing for three months. Just because we found you in Hamel’s apartment doesn’t mean you spent the whole time there.”

He asked her a few more questions, but her mind was elsewhere. She’d never been to the Wastes, had only seen pictures from covert ops missions. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that she could’ve been there. But the question was: why was she there?

It seemed their little meeting was at an end, because Fenrys clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Time for some training.”

A smile tilted up her lips as they all headed for one of the many training rooms in the building. This is what she had been most excited for. A chance to get back in the swing of things, to use her training to figure out whatever was happening to her. 

She changed into workout clothes and met all three of them men back on the rubber sparring mats. She cracked her knuckles and began stretching out her arms, a wicked smirk on her face. 

“I get to fight all three of you at once? I’m a lucky girl,” she purred, resting her hands on her hips. 

Lorcan just rolled his eyes. “Just standard self-defense shit we learned. Go through the moves Galathynius.”

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, her smile was almost savage as she unleashed herself upon them. She had been top of her training class as a recruit, had beat every single man and woman that dared go up against her. She’d trained since she was young, her parents deeming it essential if she ever wanted to follow in their footsteps. 

She traded kicks and punches back and forth, none of them able to land a solid blow to her. She managed to duck and roll, taking out Lorcan’s legs as she extended out of the roll. She spun on them, taking up a defensive position.

“Is that all you got?” she taunted. 

Fenrys and Rowan laughed while Lorcan growled, and they came at her full force. She managed to hold them off for a few minutes before becoming winded. Shit, she was a little rusty. Rowan was pulling his punches but he managed to land one on her and she gasped out in surprise. Rowan had never been able to land a hit on her. 

That gave Fenrys the in he needed, and he took her out, arms around her waist as he brought her to the floor. No one had ever bested her before. Not until that day in Rowan’s apartment. 

Her mind went blank, fear slicing through her for a split second before a deadly calm replaced it. And then she was moving, wrapping a leg around Fen’s, twisting them so she landed on top of him. She followed her momentum, ducking and rolling. Fenrys got up and faced her, his face uncharacteristically serious as they circled each other. 

He lunged and she moved as if someone else was controlling her. She stepped away from his attack and grabbed one of his shoulders, swinging herself up onto his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his neck and letting her body go slack, the dead weight causing them to fall to the floor. Distantly, as if she was watching herself from afar, she knew that move was not a standard move in the training handguide. 

Just before her back hit the floor, her hands came down on the mat and sinching her legs around Fenrys’s neck, she used their momentum to heft him through the air, Fenrys landing hard on his back as she back-flipped and landed on her feet, Fenrys’s prone body in between her legs as she stared down at him, breathing hard. 

“I fucking knew it,” he wheezed, and Aelin blinked once, her brows furrowing. 

She helped him up and looked to Lorcan and Rowan, who were both watching her with looks of surprise mixed with suspicion. Something bad churned in her gut as she turned back to Fenrys, who had braced his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

“What is it?” she demanded. “What did you know?”

“Aelin, that move you pulled is not in the guidebook and even if it was, it would be against regulation to use it in a non-lethal training setting,” Fenrys explained, straightening back up. 

“Then…” She was at a loss. “That’s impossible. Then how would I know to do it?”

The curly blonde-haired man sat on the floor, frowning. “When I was deployed in the Wastes…” he shook his head. “I was on a covert ops mission. I had to track down The Thirteen.”

The name clanged through her, goosebumps erupting along her skin. She found her head shaking in disbelief. “That’s… that’s not possible. The Thirteen is just a myth, a scary story they tell to recruits.”

Fenrys grabbed his bag and pulled out a folder, handing it to her. She opened it, her mouth falling open as she flipped through the pictures. 

It couldn’t be possible. The Thirteen were reportedly an elite group of assassins, headed by Manon Backbleak, under the control of Maeve Callahan. But no one, no one, had managed to ever find their base or even catch glimpses of this so-called mercenary group. But here in her hands were crystal clear pictures of a black haired woman standing in front of twelve women, the thirteenth by Maeve’s side. Aelin could only see the side of her face, but that face, and her white hair triggered something inside her head. 

Aelin’s gaze shot back to Fenrys, who was watching her, his mouth tight. 

“This is impossible…” she whispered, the third time she’d said it, but she knew deep in her bones that Fenrys wasn’t lying. 

“It is,” Fenrys confirmed. “I’ve only seen that type of maneuver used by The Thirteen. And the landscapes you’ve described? Lorcan was right, Aelin. You  _ were _ in the Wastes. And you were under The Thirteen’s command.”

  
  



End file.
